


From the Ashes

by scyllasins (orphan_account)



Series: Rizziverse Undertale Fics [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Romance, FellSwap Gold, Gasters Being Twatsters, Gay Harem, Harem, M/M, Reverse Harem, Slooooow burn, Slow Burn, Some Chapters are NSFW, Swapfell Purple, Underfell, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Undertale- Freeform, Which types of Sanses?, but not too slow, guess you'll have to find out, underswap - Freeform, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-07-22 20:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19998469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/scyllasins
Summary: A horrible accident involving his college's VOID collider leaves a male dryad, Asher, physically and mentally impeded. With nowhere to go and unable to live alone or with his partner, he moves into a self-run assisted living home of other VOID victims... mainly, eight grouchy, dysfunctional scientists who want nothing to do with each other.





	1. A Sours Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wannabuyahotcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabuyahotcat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [You Spell Disaster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038261) by [scyllasins (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/scyllasins). 



> Find me on [Tumblr (16+)](https://rizzizzsins.tumblr.com/)  
> Connect with me on [Pillowfort (18+ only)](https://www.pillowfort.social/rizzizzsins)  
> Like my work? Drop me a kudos or some pocket change on my [Square Cash](https://cash.app/%24rizzizzsins)  
> Donate to my top surgery fund [here](https://www.gofundme.com/1pvlclx4c0)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a day in the life for Asher, until he gets into a barfight.

“Ash. Get up. It’s your day to make breakfast.”

Asher opened his eyes to his partner’s foot on his cheek, nudging him awake. 

“I’m up, okay?” he croaked. He carefully sat up, hearing his trunk crack a couple of times. He really needed to exercise more, but it was hard to want to do anything after his shifts.

Much less cook breakfast for Theo after being woken up by his sooty, filthy feet.

“You’re gaining weight,” Theo quipped.

“I’m aware.”

Asher reached for his toes, trying to at least do a couple of stretches before standing. It helped out a lot in the long term, though it kind of hurt at the moment. 

“You found Poofer yet?” 

“No. And you asking every day isn’t gonna make him show up, either,” Theo grumbled. The flame elemental grabbed a filthy mug, checked to make sure it wasn’t too grody, and served himself some microwaved coffee.

“Theo, don’t. I’ll make some fresh stuff.”

“You’re sure taking your sweet time.”

Asher stood up harshly, did yesterday’s dishes, and started furiously chopping tomatoes.

“Jeez, what’s your problem? It’s just breakfast.”

“----” Asher didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth it. He cracked eggs into the pan, seared the tomatoes, wrapped bacon in paper towels and put it in the microwave. The START button was jammed, but Asher eventually fenegled it into working again. Lastly, he added cheese to the eggs, closed the omelets, and started a new half liter of coffee on the pour over.

Theo stared at his phone.

“Almost done.”

“Hmph.”

Asher struggled to place Theo’s plate gently. The folding table would probably collapse if he slammed it. He sat at the other end and ate his fill.

“There’s no salt on this.”

Asher summoned a couple of vines to carry the salt to Theo.

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what  _ is _ the point, Theo?”

Silence. Of course. 

“I’m going to class.”

“Of course you are,” Theo grumbled.

“Theo, what do you want me to do?” Asher had to control his volume. The moss in his hair started to pick up, like there was a gust of wind pushing it.

“Same thing you always do, Asher,” Theo replied.

Asher packed his backpack and left, almost knocking over an easel on his way out.

Class was uneventful; it kind of had to be, since Asher took his courses online now. He logged onto the library computer, and continued on his coursework. Philosophy 101. He hadn’t wanted to take it, but he was taking it to cover some kind of prerequisite. His work had put him pretty far behind, but as long as it was all turned in before the end of the semester, he’d be fine.

_ Phil 101- Getting to know you _

_ This is just a little warmup exercise for the course, and a chance for me to know a little more of your background. Please answer the questions below and don’t worry about sounding “smart”; I just want to see your thought process as is! _

_ -Professor Clemm _

Clemm? Weird, he thought Clemm was a dimensional travel physicist. Why was he teaching this class? 

_ Who are you? _

Asher had to roll his eyes. ‘Who are you?’ Was that really what Clemm was going to start with? Well, if Clemm didn’t want any bullshit answers, then Asher wasn’t going to pull his punches.

_ “I’m a dryad from a fairy glen living alone with my partner in the city.” _

One down, two to go.

_ What do you want from life? _

Best not to dwell on that one.

_ “To not answer these kinds of questions in front of a complete stranger.” _

There was only one question left.

_ What is a moment from your past that has defined you? _

Asher just chose to cross that one out with the strikethrough tool. Some random professor he’d only seen in passing didn’t need to know about his personal life. Grade be damned. He saved and dragged the Word document into the submission box, then checked his other classes. Nothing was due right now, and nothing new had been posted yet. Now what was he supposed to do with his day? Maybe he could just…. Take a short nap….

“Excuse me.”

Something was poking him…. Something long and hard….

“Ma’am.”

He sits up to almost get the blunt end of a pencil in his eye. Cold red eyelights stared down at him. Was that a professor? He looked like an old Hollywood movie villain. Tall, slender, mysterious. And kind of a dick.

“The library will be closing in an hour. You’d do best to not get locked in for the evening.” There was disdain written all over the monster’s face. It didn’t look good on a skeleton.

Shit! He’d come in when, 10 AM? It was midnight now. He didn’t want to give up his paycheck, but night shifts were going to be the end of him.

“Thanks for let---” The bastard was gone. Of course. He hated monsters that could teleport. They always liked to show it off.

“Fine. Leave. Not like anything I say matters,” Asher mumbled to himself, before packing up his things and heading out. He really didn’t want to go home…. He didn’t want to see Theo and his stink eye, if he was even there at all. He knew he’d be awake all night anyway, having slept the day away. He checked Underspace. The usual: pictures of Theo dancing, pouring champagne into human girls’s mouths, making all his stupid poses into the camera. To think he used to save every single one.

Fuck it. 

Why should Theo be the only one having fun? Asher finally had a day off, and for all the complaining Theo did about him not being around, he sure took the first opportunity that they could have spent time together to run off with a bunch of strangers. He could do it.

Well, he could try. It was how he’d met Theo, after all, which meant it wasn’t impossible for Asher to crowd himself in, ass to ass, with a bunch of sweaty humans he knew nothing about…. Yeah, maybe a deadish bar would be a better fit. It’d been a while since he’d had a drink of any kind, and even if he was alone, he could pace himself. He wasn’t going to overdo it, no matter how much he wanted to.

He pulled up a ridesharing service for monsters, and looked up the nearest bar.  _ Sparkby’s Bar School of Hard Knocks.  _ Sounded like a shithole. Perfect. Nothing like a shitty night after a shitty day being served shitty drinks by some shitty student bartender. He changed into his binder in the bathroom, headed out, and waited for his ride.

A beaten old drifter’s car with duct-taped windows hobbled up to the curb. Was this his ride, or a murderer about to drag him into the trunk? He takes a peek through the window, and sure enough, the official driver light was glowing softly in the front view mirror, as well as the light of a purple eye. The right driver’s window creaked down.

“Ya getting in or not? Gas isn’t free, yanno, nyeh heh heh.”

“Just wanted to make sure this was the right vehicle,” Asher explained. 

“Everyone seems to say that when I come to pick ‘em up. Can’t imagine why,” The driver responded. It was a grimy skeleton in a ratty purple hoodie, bones stained yellow by cigarettes. The car was old enough to have an ashtray, and faint embers let Asher know that it was going to reek of tar inside.

“What? ‘S not like I’m smoking right now. You can get another car if that’s gonna muss up your moss.”

“It’s fine,” Asher sighed, and opened the door. He had to hold it a certain way so that it wouldn’t outright fall off its hinges.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the door. If it falls off, I’ll just come back and get it later.” Either the driver was batshit insane, or he had a weird sense of humor. Asher couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“So, ‘Asher’. What brings you to the rowdiest bar in town? Not to judge you or anything…. But you look like a pansy.”

“You don’t know that I am.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Maybe I wanna live on the wild side tonight.”

“You look like your definition of wild is going to a tavern just to sketch the lamps.”

Ouch. That one had cut deep… because it was true. Asher had a sketchbook in his backpack.

“Heh, looks like I was right. Can I offer you some unsolicited advice?” the driver asked.

“No,” Asher responded.

“Well,” he continued, “when you get there, watch your wallet, watch your panties, and try to pull your head out of the books for a bit. It can be kind of fun if you aren’t a stick in the mud.”

“I don’t wear panties.”

“Ooh, came prepared,” the driver replied.

“Does your boss approve of you talking like that?” Asher asked. He wasn’t going to report him or anything; he was just kind of shocked that his driver could get away with the stuff he was pulling.

“That’s the point of rideshare, twiggy. I’m my own boss~”

He decided to let it go for now. Now that he wasn’t occupied talking to his driver, he realized that the skeleton drove like a fucking maniac. It was a smooth ride, the smoothest he’d ever been on, but still highly illegal. Shortcuts through alleys, brief stints on sidewalks, red light running, the whole shebang. What was this driver’s name anyway? Asher opened the app, just so he could add the weirdo to his Favorite Drivers list. “Scamp”, apparently. Asher couldn’t think of a more fitting name.

Scamp’s phone pings him to tell him someone has added him to their favorites. 

“‘S that supposed to be a joke? Those things actually do affect my paycheck.”

“What? No! I meant to add you to my favorites. You’re interesting. You don’t try to talk to me about the weather, at the very least,” Asher grinned, nervous. Hopefully he hadn’t offended Scamp.

Scamp looked…. Sheepish? Asher could swear he saw the guy’s cheeks light up, but it was gone in a flash.

“Heh, thanks. Never gotten one of those before.”

“Wait, really? That’s bullshit! I’ve never had such a good ride.”

“Nyeh, you should see me off the wheel.” … Was the skeleton propositioning him? Asher thought he saw him wink in the dark, then realized that there was no way he could with an eyepatch over his left socket.

“Uhh… maybe next time?” Next time? What was he saying? Scamp had taken him so off guard that his mouth was just spewing whatever nervous shit it wanted to say.

“I’ll hold you to that, twiggy.”

Normally nicknames irritated him, and ‘twiggy’ certainly wasn’t his favorite, but Asher didn’t feel like correcting Scamp. Frankly, he just needed off the ride, so he could process what had just happened.

There’s a hard brake, and Asher almost hits his face into the seat in front of him.

“Welp, here we are. Remember- eyes on your panties.”

“I---” Scamp and his cardboard box mobile are gone in a cloud of smoke. Asher didn’t even have time to correct him.

Even from the outside, he could hear the noises of the bar. The gang tags on the front of the building weren’t a good sign, but Asher had looked into what they meant. This place seemed to be tagged as neutral territory for the Brat Cats and the Mad Dogs, so hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad. 

The top of the door rung a little bell when he opens it, and the bar got considerably quieter. 

Asher fought his instinct to hug his arms to his chest and shrink, and instead walked like that terrifying professor did, all the way to the bar to grab a stool.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Fancy yourself an urban explorer?” A massive purple flame elemental scoffed. Not more flame elementals… did they all have to be such assholes?

“Lemme guess: you brought a camera and four big-ass lenses to ‘capture the interior architecture’. I’ll just go ahead and warn you that my clientele don’t appreciate being photographed, little hipster.”

“I didn’t bring any of that. I can’t afford it. I can afford a drink, though, so quit stalling and toss me a menu.” Geez. He hadn’t expected to be that assertive, but something about the fire elemental’s attitude made him not want to take it lying down.

The flame tossed him a menu alright, a sticky one covered in grenadine, right into his face. Asher gritted his teeth and leafed through the menu, highly unhappy with the texture he was touching.

“Hey, lay off the guy. He just wants a drink like every other loser in this bar. Includin’ me.”

That was one gravelly voice. Asher thought Scamp’s voice was particular, but this guy sounded straight out of the Godfather. He looked up to see… another skeleton. His bright red eyelights seemed to be locked in combat mode, but his smile was deceptively relaxed. Asher got odd vibes from him. He looked torn between being constantly on edge and as chill as could be. 

“And why should I listen to you, tubby?” The bartender snorted at the skeleton.

“‘Cuz if I have to bash your brains in with your cocktail shaker again, I will, propane in my ass.”

Asher couldn’t tell if they were joking around or not… he really didn’t want to get caught up this close to a barfight.

“Fine, fine. But only because you vouched for him. Do you even know this little seedling, Red?”

“Don’t need to. If Scamp dropped him off, the poor guy’s probably already had a hard time.”

Asher perked up. “You know my driver?”

“Intimately,” the bartender smirked. “Just like everyone else in the bar, am I right?” Several patrons raised their glasses. Even Asher could see they weren’t laughing good-naturedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He mutters.

The bartender squares up to him, looking down at him from his 6’2” height.

“Say somethin’? I can’t hear you from all the way down at my cock.”

That was enough. Asher didn’t care if the odds were stacked against him.

“I said, ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ Why’s it on Scamp if you’re the one who’s such a prick that he has to pay someone to blow him?”

The temperature in the room spiked. 

“Say that. Again,” the elemental growled.

“Now, now, easy there, kindling…” The skeleton tried to soothe him, but Asher was, for all intents and purposes, fired up now. 

“You heard me. And ya know what else? For all your talk about your cock, I sure don’t see anything from ‘all the way down here’. Maybe it’s because you’ve got no balls, so you’re making shitty jokes at the expense of someone who is doing you a service that I, frankly, wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

“Oh hoh hoh hoh, I was hoping to get some firewood so I could start the grill up again. Thank you for volunteering,” the bartender bared his teeth in a wicked grin. Asher hadn’t been in a fight before. He knew he was going to lose, but he was going to lose standing proud, looking the bartender dead in the eyes--- until he’s hit right between them, and slowly loses consciousness.   



	2. Chicken Parmigiasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher gets a couple of unexpected guests.  
> This chapter is SFW.

The rustling of hospital sheets and a splitting headache woke Asher up. He’d never even gotten a drink and it still felt like he had a hangover.

“Morning, princess.” Was that the red eyed skeleton from the night before? Had he wasted his evening watching over him?

Oh. Right. They’d probably taken him out of his binder.

“Er, prince. But, yeah, morning.”

“Oh… alright, princey.”

Close enough.

“What are you doing here? I mean, I appreciate you taking me to the hospital, but he didn’t hit me  _ that _ hard, did he?”

“Yeah, ‘bout that. Might wanna feel your noggin. It’s not a pretty picture.”

The living sap that made up his face had solidified and cracked. It was a way that his body protected itself from hard hits.

Bastard had really done a number on him. Was he going to be able to go into work like this?

“Did the doctors say it was a concussion?” 

“No, but---”

“Cool. I have a shift tonight,” Asher grunted, starting to get up. Gravity magic yanked him back into bed.

“Woah, easy there, your Highness. They didn’t say you were fit to work either, so just stay your ass put before you break something else.”

“Fiiiiine. Well, I’m awake. You can go now. I’m not dead and you aren’t liable,” Asher sighed.

“Why the fuck would I leave ya like this? It’s kinda my fault that you got hit.”

“How is it your fault?” Asher snickered. “I shouldn’t have run my mouth towards a ball of fire twice my size. Not that I have any regrets.”

“I, uh, shoulda stopped you. Or him. I coulda done something,” The skeleton scratches his head.

“You didn’t have to. You’ve done more than enough for me, getting me to the hospital.”

Cinn was about to answer when Asher heard shouting from down the hall.

“Yeah, I’m his significant other! I have pictures of us! Who the hell did you let in that room with him?! You people are fucking incompetent!”

Theo threw the door open, giving Asher a heart murmur. 

“What are you doing here.” Theo asked coldly.

“I’m… busy? Recovering from a head injury?” Asher replied, already tired of hearing his partner’s voice.

“Yeah. I can see that. What I don’t see is…. I don’t know, let me think. How you got yourself hurt. Where the hell you were last night. Who that motherfucker right there is,” Theo pointed at the skeleton.

“Look, just stop raising your voice. You’re making a scene.”

“Oh, I’m making a scene? Just like you did at that filthy bar last night?”

“So you do know what happened,” Asher responded.

“You were on the fucking news. ‘Dryad Injured By Fire Elemental Punch In Possible Interspecies Hate Crime.’ Guess who’s the only fucking dryad in this city?”

Asher’s head felt like it was going to burst.

“Please, Theo, just stop. I talked shit. I got hit. If this is a private hospital, you don’t have to foot the bill. So just go. I’ll be home tonight if I can.”

“Pfft, no you won’t. You’ll be at work. Or maybe at the bad part of town getting into barfights, because that’s apparently who you are now.”

“Hey,” the skeleton tried to interject.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to act out. Are you looking for attention or something? You ever considered that I could use a glance over once in a while?”

“Hey! That’s fuckin’ enough!” The skeleton stood up. He seemed offended, as if Theo had been talking to him.

“You stay out of this! You fucking impersonated me and took  _ my  _ partner to some random hospital. Who knows what you two did on the way.”

Asher couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “ **I was unconscious!** Stop shouting and just go to class! I’ll be back later!”

“I expect you home by 10 pm for dinner. Now that I have to put a curfew on you just to prevent you from getting killed,” Theo threw that in, before slamming the door as he left.

“... You’re dating that fuckboy?”

Asher knew what kind of talk was coming, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“Just go. Whatever you’re gonna say, I’ve already heard it, so go. Before the hospital staff kick you out for lying.”

“Look…. Name’s Cinn. I’m leavin’ my number on this napkin. Text me by 10, please… not to sound like that bastard. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Asher turned away in his bed, curling up. “..... Thanks.”

There’s three gentle knocks on the door.

“This is your doctor. May I come in?”

“Sure,” Asher manages, trying not to cry.

A goat monster with a gentle, but slightly detached voice came in with a cup of chamomile tea.

“Good morning. My name is Dr. Gabriel Dreemurr, pronounced Gah-Bree-El. How do you do today, Mr. John Doe?” She chuckled a little at her joke, then set a cup of tea down for Asher to have. No doctor had ever brought him tea. It was nice.

He took a careful sip of the chamomile. It was delicious, and he typically hated chamomile.

“Ms. Samara Frax,” Asher winced. “Please call me Asher, though.”

“Your legal name is already on the paperwork. I will call you what makes you most comfortable, and I will ensure that others do so in my presence. Does that help?” She asked, sounding genuinely concerned for him. It helped him relax a little.

“Yeah… thank you, Dr. Dreemurr.”

“Now then, it seems that you were hit rather hard on the head at a barfight. May I have a look at the injury?

Asher pushed his long, mossy hair aside to reveal the injury. He still hadn’t looked at it, only felt it.

“Oh, my. Will you be pressing charges? I’m sorry, but under Monarchic Monster Law, I’m required to ask, and this is a monster hospital.”

Asher shook his head. “No point. It already happened, and I kind of deserved it.”

“Now, now, violence is almost never called for, especially if you were speaking the truth. I have been briefly acquainted with Mr. Sparkby Embers, and let me say, the dislike is mutual.”

Asher chuckled at that. Gabriel did the standard tests- ask him math problems, take his blood pressure, listen to his soul, before letting him know that everything checked out.

"I would strongly suggest that you at least spend the day here before returning to work tonight. I overheard you and the flame arguing over it."

Fantastic. How many people had heard that, the whole hospital?

"Will do."

"Well then, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Frax. Please don't get caught up in another 'interspecies hate crime'. The human news have enough fuel for idiocy out there."

"Got it," Asher replied, before reclining a bit. Gabriel hadn't taken back her mug. He presumed she would come and get it later. In the meantime, he reached for his computer and opened his email. Great. An email from the professor already.

_ Dear Asher, _

_ I noticed that on the get to know you assignment, you were a bit reticent to offer any information on yourself. _

_ I hope that my lines of questioning have not made you uncomfortable, and would be happy to discuss anything you'd like to get off your chest in private.  _

_ I look forward to seeing you a bit more comfortable in the class. I read your contributions in the Creative Writing magazine, and I think you're capable of great things! _

_ Cordially, _

_ Dr. Clementine Gaster (Dr. Clemm) _

Well… that was less bad than Asher had expected it to be. Still, something didn’t seem quite right. Asher had learned from experience that STEM professors, in general, tended to be less understanding of his situation. So if Clemm wasn’t an interdimensional physicist, what professor was he thinking of? He’d remember eventually.

_ “Dr. Clemm, _

_ I’ll do my best to be more responsive from now on. _

_ Asher” _

He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he sent it as it was.

He rang for more pain meds. After the nurse administered them, he used a vine to open the blinds. The lazy afternoon sun replenished his spirits a bit, and he felt comfortable enough to take another nap. He really had fallen behind on his sleep schedule.

Around dinnertime, there’s yet another knock on the door. Asher didn’t even have time to say “Come in” before the door was opened.

“.... What are you doing here?! Don’t get closer!” Asher hissed. It was his attacker. To hit him for insulting him was one thing, but to show up at his hospital room?

“Hey, hey, hands off the panic button. I’ve heard enough sirens for today,” the bartender sighed. “Look, if I had come here to kill you, would I have brought flowers and food?”

Oh. He had brought flowers. And food.

“.... I guess not…” Asher paused, before pulling his finger away from the call button.

“So, how’d Sparkby react to you punching a client half your size? Do you still have a job?” Asher asked. Asher didn’t know why he cared, but he did.

“I’m Sparkby,” the elemental answered.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. I’m the owner. So yeah, I got to keep my job, just barely. Almost lost my goddamn license.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I kind of deserved it for what I said. I shouldn’t have judged you like that,” Asher chuckled, rubbing his head.

“Cinn and his bro chewed me out for quite a while after you were checked in. So…”

Sparkby took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“Look, I’m not good at apologies, but I’m a damn good cook, and hospital food blows, so I made you supper. Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned or some shit. I’m not that kind of a bastard.”

Sparkby set the flowers by Asher’s windowsill, then stopped. 

“Ah, shit, I brought you dead plants. That’s not considered offensive or anything, is it?”

Asher shook his head. “I appreciate them.”

“Right. If you ever wanna come back to my bar, I won’t bash your skull in, and your first drink’s on the house.”

He was about to head out when Asher noticed he still had a styrofoam container in one hand. Was Sparkby going to eat alone?

“Wait! Umm ... if you’re not busy, you can sit down for a bit. We could both eat.”

“Huh?” The flame looked down, confused. “Well… if you need someone around, I guess.”

He closed the door and sat in a chair nearby. Asher opened his food. Chicken parmigiana. It smelled heavenly.

“Jesus, this is beautiful. You really didn’t have to.”

Sparkby shakes his head, a hint of blue on his cheeks. “‘S nothing. And I did have to. Or Cinn and Edge would’ve had my head.”

Asher took his first bite. It was perfection. Better than anything he’d made. And certainly better than cold takeout from Theo. He hadn't meant to moan, but it was so goooood.

Thankfully, both he and Sparkby silently agreed to pretend that it hadn't happened at all. Sparkby cleared his throat.

"So, Cinn has an older brother?"

"Younger. Nickname's Edge. Real uptight bastard, but he's gotten a lot better. oNow he’s just a fuckin’ busybody when he’s not working Captain’s Shift.”

“Wait. Cinn’s little brother is the Captain of the Interroyal Guard? Some brother.”

“Yeah. Rides my ass every time I don’t card in his presence, but otherwise a good guy. He almost blasted me when he found out I punched a mouthy little sapling.”

Asher chuckled. “Interspecies hate crime, huh?”

“The shit humans come up with to slander monsters. You’d think we wouldn’t be newsworthy by now,” Sparkby scoffed.

“Especially since we’ve lived along them the entire time,” Asher grinned.

“Oh, you’re a glen kid? How was it?”

Asher wanted to answer, but there was a pit in his stomach whenever someone asked him that.

“... Don’t worry. I don’t like dwelling on the past either. Well, how was the food? Orgasmic?”

Asher almost spit out his iced coffee. “You piece of shit! I thought you were gonna let that slide!”

“Oh, you’d love for me to let it slide, wouldn’t ya?~”

The door swung open, almost hitting Sparkby. Thankfully the guy could DODGE. 

“What the fuck is this?” Theo growled, glaring daggers at the larger fire elemental.

“A friend.” Well, Asher wasn’t sure if he considered Sparkby a friend yet, but it would hopefully shut Theo up.

“You don’t have friends. Is this the guy who hit you? Why the fuck did you let him in? You just opening the door for anyone except your significant other now?”

“Theo, you didn’t even knock.”

“Why should I have to knock? I have the right to be here.  _ He  _ should be in prison.”

“Well, I’m not pressing charges, so let it go, Theo.”

“Let it go?” He guffawed. “Let it go?! This bastard is getting more forgiveness out of you in five minutes than I have in 5 years.”

The potent scent of frankincense hit Asher’s nose. 

Sparkby was smoking with rage, but the wicked smile on his face was what was worrying Asher the most.

“Ohhhh…. I remember you. I see why you’re trying to get rid of me. How could I forget you, you little piss stain of a monster?”

“I’ve never met you in my life. And I don’t want you in  _ our _ life, so get out before I tell the Guard you attacked him again.” Theo’s voice wavered on the last word.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little matchstick. Truth’s gonna come out one way or another; I won’t even have to be the one to do it.”

“Get out. Before I call. The cops,” Theo demanded. Sparkby just shrugged.

“No worries. I was on my way out anyways, and so are you.”

He saunters out, cocksure as when Asher had first seen him behind the counter.

What had he just witnessed?

“Do you know---”

“No. I brought takeout, but clearly that’s not good enough for you anymore. I’m going home.”

“Theo---”

“Be back at 10.”

… There was no point in thinking about it. Whatever had just happened, Theo would keep him in the dark forever if he could. Asher hugged his pillows tightly, trying not to sob. 

Maybe it was better like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, guess I'm on a roll. I'm in summer vacation, I don't want to program, and I wanna kick this story into high gear, so that'll probably explain the pace for the next couple days.


	3. Let's Zalgo to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

Finally. 9 PM. Asher grabbed his things, pulled his regular clothes on, and signed the discharge papers. It was time to go…

Go where? 

He really didn’t want to go home, even though Theo had demanded it. He was a grown-ass man, and he didn’t need Theo leering at him until he went to work. Nonetheless, he needed to change clothes and shower, so home it was.

Gabriel had told him not to drive today, and Theo had the car anyway. He opened his rideshare app. Was Scamp around? He could use a couple of jokes and uncomfortable advances right now.

Thank fuck. He was. He presses his profile picture and waits for a reply.

Ping! Scamp was on his way. His phone went off again. Theo’s live picture feed. He was already out on the town, posing with some nightmarish, inebriated frizzhead of a woman. Of course. All that bitching that Asher wouldn’t come home, and Theo had started his night before 9:30.

Fuck that.  Fuck Theo. He changed his destination to go straight to work. 

BEEP BEEP. Scamp pulled up right in front of him.

“Hop in. Daylight’s a wastin’, nyeh heh.”

“Fuck daylight,” Asher mumbled, before getting in.

The drive was quiet for a while. Asher’s work was on the other side of Ebott.

“Cigarette?” Scamp asked. He seemed as content with the silence as Asher was. It was nice. They didn’t need to fill the quiet with bullshit.

“Can’t. It’ll kill me even faster than you.”

“Hey, these are nicotine free.”

“Smoke is smoke when you’re a walking tree,” Asher got the last word.

Was Scamp pulling over?

Asher got a notification. The driver had canceled the ride and he’d gotten his money back. Was Scamp going to kick him out of the car? 

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you care?” Asher grumbled.

“Who said I cared? Satisfy my curiosity and you get a free ride,” Scamp smirked.

“I don’t wanna share. There’s no point.”

“What’s that mean?” Scamp pressed on, amused.

“Look, if you can see that I’m feeling like shit, why are you harassing me about it? Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

“Nope. Spit it out.” Scamp rolled down the window and blew out a puff of smoke. “UEbott’s janitorial night shifts don’t start for another hour or so. Your head’s busted open and you want me to take you straight to work when I don’t even know if you’ve eaten dinner. If you die, the rideshare service will find some way to dump the responsibility on me, so tell me what’s going on so I can cover my ass in court.”

Okay, that was funny, if a little cold. Asher snickers a bit.

“My partner said I needed to be home by ten. Turns out he went clubbing at 8. I don’t even know what clubs are open and full at 8 pm, but Theo finds a goddamn way. I got the bump on my head from Sparkby Embers himself.”

“Sparkby punched you? Be thankful you’re not dust, kiddo. What did you do? He usually just throws people out of the bar and kicks them around a bit. If he punched someone, it meant they really fucked up.”

Asher hesitated.

He didn’t want to seem like some kind of white knight.

“You don’t seem like the type to get into fights easy, especially if you let your boyfriend walk all over you. So what did you do? I’ll throw in some fert if that makes you feel any better.”

Fertilizing capsules? How was he affording those by being a discount chauffeur and smoking half his paycheck?

“... he was talking shit.”

“About you?” Scamp shrugged. 

“.... About you.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep. Happy?”

Scamp burst into wheezing, uncontrollable laughter. It was half cough, half laugh, and for some reason, Asher didn’t mind the sound. 

“What’s so goddamn funny? Stop laughing or I’ll start laughing, and my laugh sounds like nails on a chalkboard,” Asher snorted a little.

“You took a punch. From Sparkby. To the face. Because he was saying filthy shit… about a hooker! I don’t  _ wheeeeeeze  _ think I’ve ever heard a more stupid way to bust your skull open! Asgore on a cracker, you’re hilarious, rugrat!”

Oh.

So the rumors had been true.

“Even so! He’s the one who hired you, so… I said it said more about him if he had to hire someone to blow him.”

Scamp was still mid-conniption, when, on a particularly strong inhale, he sucked his entire cigarette right into his gullet.

“Oh my gods, are you okay?!” Asher panicked. 

“Hey. Ashy. Check this out.”

Scamp turned around, and blew rings of smoke at Asher through his eyesocket. Normally Asher would have been pissed, but the amount of smoke was negligible, and the stunt had impressed him.

“Can you do it out the other one?”

Shit. Asher immediately regretted asking, having temporarily forgotten the patch over Scamp’s other eye. “I’m s--”

“Yep. Look.”

He blew smoke up until the eyepatch lifted a bit, then timed it with the whistles of a steam train.

“Choo choo, motherfucker. One Eye Express, coming in hot,” Scamp managed, before wheezing and laughing again. Asher had to wipe his eyes; his stomach was hurting from laughing so hard. 

“Aw, man. Still can’t believe you almost dusted yourself to defend a whore’s honor. That’s one I’ve never heard.”

Asher shook his head. “It wasn’t about honor. People shouldn’t talk that way about anyone they’ve slept with, even once. It’s just not okay.”

Scamp sighed, kicking his feet up.

“Lots of shit in the world isn’t okay. There isn’t a damn thing you can do but smoke and work till you die, so try to make it last. Don’t do that shit again. You’re a fun passenger who puts up with my shenanigans, and I wanna drive you around some more, okay?”

Asher grinned. It was nice to have someone care, or even pretend to like Scamp was.

“Got it. Get me to work. You promised me a free ride.”

“Right on it, Cap’n.”

Scamp gently eases the pedal into ridiculous speeds, maneuvering through alleys and potholes to get Asher there as soon as possible. His eyelight seemed to brighten when they were cruising down the lanes. His cigarette went out, and he didn’t even light a new one; he was enthralled with the drive, and Asher kind of was too. He was a little sad when the car came to a stop.

“Nice. Didn’t lose the left windshield this time,” Scamp grins. There’s a bit of a spark to that smile.

“Not gonna lie, that was awesome. Stay out of trouble, though. You’re a meter maid’s wet dream,” Asher gently warned him. 

“Heh. As if they could catch me. Only Edge and my big bro can keep pace with my Nadine.”

Of course he named the damn Lada. 

“I’ll see you later, Scamp.”

“See ya.”

And he was off, just as fast as he’d come to get him. Asher felt a little empty. Why was that?

He pushed it aside, scanned his card, and hopped in the elevator. He liked to start from the third floor; by the time he reached floor one, it was time to clock out, and he got to walk right out the door. It was already nice and dark, the glow of his soul the only light in the building. It was all he really needed to see anyway. He opened his closet, pulled out his cart, and took a deep breath.

Time to do the only thing he could ever fucking do right.

The Biology wing was first. There were ten lab/classroom combo rooms and a large lecture hall for the building. It was best to get that out of the way first, because cleaning the lecture hall carpet sucked.

The repetitive work put Asher’s mind at ease. The sound of the carpet foam, the whir of the vacuum wheels. The clink of quarters as he bought himself some canned coffee; in the quiet of the night shift, it was all music to his ears. He was half asleep, half dead, half angry, but none of that mattered. All he had to do was go up, row by row, spraying the foam, till he reached the top, then he vacuumed on the way down when the foam dried. Any trash he found, he could pick up with a vine and toss in the can; any pencils or pens, he could keep.

There was one more thing Asher did that wasn’t in his job description; when he’d first entered his new job, he’d noticed how barren the halls and classrooms felt. Throughout his first year, he’d been sneaking large potted plants into places throughout the building. It had been four or five years since then and everyone had assumed the plants were supposed to be there. Of course, Asher didn’t put them in labs or places where they might contaminate something important. He gave them water when they needed it, and just a touch of his own magic, to keep them nice and vibrant.

Seeing wilting leaves perk up to his touch made him feel like he wasn’t a complete failure.

Eventually, the Biology wing was finished, and the biology offices were next. These were kind of easy. All he had to do was unlock each office, wipe down the floors, and not knock anything over.

Most of the professors were human, and of little interest. Asher just cleaned their offices, tried to ignore their family pictures, and moved on. But the few monster offices were more interesting. It was cool to see where they came from, what they were up to. He at least understood their whiteboard notes a little better. All this talk of organs and systems made his head spin. There was a reason he chose Intro to Monster Bio to fulfill that particular prereq. It was easier to memorize a hundred species than to remember the difference between Squishy Lump #1 and Squishy Lump #2, much less what each one did.

Occasionally, he ran into other janitors on his shift, but it seemed like tonight wasn’t that night. Thank goodness. He knew the building wasn’t exactly his, but he treasured the solace and hated intrusions on it. Even professors working late made him a little uncomfortable.

He pulls a small speaker out of his cart. He’d kind of made a secret compartment for it, so that it’d always be there no matter who used his equipment. With one last look around, he turned the volume up. 

The rhythm of the music moved his feet and gave him a second kick of energy during that “one-third through my shift” slump. He was through with the offices in no time. Time for the second floor- the Psychology and Chemistry floor. Asher was especially careful with the “don’t knock anything over” rule in the chem labs. There were things that would give a regular monster a nasty rash that would outright kill him. This floor wasn’t too hard, since psychology labs required little special treatment, and the chemistry professors and students were extremely thorough about keeping their spaces clean.

Normally, he didn’t pay tooo much attention to the names of the professors he cleaned for, but wasn’t that Clemm’s room at the end of the hall?

Now he had to go inside. Well, he technically had to go in either way, but he was very invested now. What kind of man was he? How did he decorate? Why didn’t he have his office in the Philosophy building?

As he approached, he could hear the faint sound of music, so he turned his own off. If Clemm was working late, Asher would rather avoid direct interaction. But all the lights were turned off. He reached for the doorknob; the office was locked.

Apparently Clemm had left music playing in his office by accident. Wow, his office was incredibly nice, a corner office to boot. Asher had seen it before, but he had context for who worked in it now. The walls were painted the shade of pumpkin soup, and a couple of Himalayan salt lamps sat unlit. One on his windowsill, and one on his desk. He had a fancy coffee machine and an expensive tin of rooibos and black tea, with a dash of cinnamon. Asher almost wanted to spend his breaks in this space. It was so relaxing, with the faint scent of some essential oil in the air. 

He felt kind of bad for being such an abrasive little shit now. Maybe he could leave a note.

_ Professor Clemm,  _

_ This might be a little out of place, but I’m Asher from one of your PHIL 101 online classes. I do the night cleaning in the building. I wanted to say I was sorry for being so rude in my first assignment. I’m going to do my best to be a bit more open in future assignments. _

That should do it. Certainly better than his cold as ice email before. 

Now for the first floor- Physics. For some reason, this level took the longest to clean, even longer than the Biology lecture hall. Turned out physicists were messy people. There were several smaller lecture halls on the first floor that needed upkeep. The first floor bathrooms saw the most traffic, so they took longer to tidy than the others. 

Finally. The physics offices were a goddamn nightmare to clean. 

Especially the offices. Papers everywhere. No way of knowing what was trash and what was important. There was only one office that wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. Asher was always relieved to reach it; it meant his shift was almost over.

Wait…. Who did the office belong to? Asher squinted at the nametag. A “Dr. Crimm Gaster”. Was this the interdimensional travel physicist he’d been mixing up Clemm with? In his defense, Crimm and Clemm weren’t that far apart sounding. He’s about to open the door when…

“Can I help you.”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Asher yelped, vines immediately wrapping around the object of surprise. If he was human he would have shat his pants.

Asher’s query easily teleports out of his grip.

“I would suggest that you refrain from suddenly attacking unknown monsters in the future. You do not know where some of us are from, or what we might do if startled.” 

It was the professor from earlier in the library. He was still as frigid and stiff as before, but in those red eyes burned a cold, calculating fire that chilled Asher to the roots.

“Y--Speak for yourself! You just snuck up on me!”

The professor blinked. “Hm. Your alertness could use improving. I passed you several times this evening. I suppose you were too busy with your little song and dance to detect my presence.”

Oh, now  _ that  _ was embarrassing. Asher reminded himself to never have fun again.

“Well… would you like me to clean your office?”

“Is it not sufficiently ordered?” Cripes, was that a pointed question. 

“N-no, it’s the most organized room in the department. I still like to mop the floor just in case, that’s all.”

“Then I would prefer that you refrain from entering. I expect my request to be respected.” With that, Dr. Crimm slipped into his office and closed the door, not even saying good night.

There was only one space left to clean, and it was the worst part of Asher’s night.

The VOID collider.

He despised everything about the room. It was too spacious, had too many warning signs on it, as if the university knew they shouldn’t have built the damn thing in the first place. The door had to be unlocked with an alphanumerical password. It as 198X, when the first accident with the VOID had been rumoured to happen, a sobering reminder to not fuck around with this machine.

The door opened silently and closed just as quietly. The familiar indiscriminate hum of noises emanated from the machine’s ventilators and cooling system. 

The monitors and computers were on. Asher did his best to ignore it. It just meant he’d have to be even more careful, if such a thing was even possible. The scent of licorice, air dust, and ashes filled Asher’s nostrils. Tonight it was especially strong, to the point that he almost gagged on it. Regardless, such a thing happened sometimes. From what he could see, the machine itself was firmly in the OFF position.

The floor had to be cleaned first, with a special friction-increasing spray to help prevent slip-and-fall accidents. The keyboards usually needed to be cleaned, but Asher passed on it, since the computers were running. The last thing he needed was some professor ripping his branches out because he’d ruined a crucial calculation. 

  
  
  


**Ç̸̢̪̞̩̯͖͖̜̗̟͖̫͐̊ͅǫ̸̣̠̞̩̱͊͜m̶̯̞̹̺̪͉͙̘̥͔̟͑̄̇́͑̂̓̓̅̔̚͠͠ȅ̸̟̼̎̉̊͆̏̋̈̐̈́̃̈͒͝ ̴̡̘̖͂̾̈͐̄̈́̊̅̍̑̐̈́̈́̿̚j̶̨̼̤̼̖̯̣̰͎̲͖̫̤̮͛̌̉̒̈́̒̅͗͝͠͝ȯ̷̡̝̜̠͚̩̲̋͊̑̈́͑͛͐̓́͐͜i̵̢̨͍̞͍̥̬̬͎͐̈́́̿ṇ̵̢̛͚̰̩̠̗̖̜̊̌̎̍̿̅̄̓͗̂͐͜ͅ ̸̮͕̝̲͉͈̤̤̎̐̆͌͘͝ṯ̷̡̢͎̮̰͈̭͋̈́͐̽̅͂̓̾̅͒̓ͅh̸̛̰̖̫͒̓̇̈̽̀͛̓̋͐̂̅̕̚ę̸̹͉̝̗̲̹̲͈̭͎̐͐̀̐̀͊̈͠͝͝ͅ ̶̨̢̩̮̟̰̖̥̬̠͇̹͖̬̻͒̒͂͆̄̈́͘͠f̶̦̖̍û̷͖̖̼̦̝̘̞͙͎̙̩͖̣͂̇͊̃̃͜͝ͅn̵͈̝͋͗͌̽̅̓̾̾̑̾͌̅.̶̮͍͚͔̩̪͚̟̼̬̪̈́̎̈̇**

  
  
  


What the fuck was that?

Asher’s soul pounded in his chest. From time to time, the humming of the machine sounded like voices or other noises. The same thing happened when Asher listened to white noise for too long; he would start picking out voices or even music that wasn’t really there.

It was fine. He just needed to breathe, to think about being safe and warm in bed… 

And to clean the inside of the collider.

Fuck, this was the worst part. 

First, Asher stripped down to nothing but his underwear, leaving his phone and clothes in his cart. 

Next, he used the same passcode to open the protective gear vault. Several spacesuit-like objects waited for him. He found the one closest to his size and stepped into it, one piece at a time. First, the bodysuit. It zipped loudly, so that people would know it was secured shut. 

Secured. Check.

Then, the helmet. He set it on his shoulders and twisted it until it locked into place. Check.

Lastly, the gloves and boots. He connected the fasteners tightly, so that they would stick to the rest of the suit properly. Perfect. He would be protected from the background contamination of the collider.

He opened a smaller cabinet with one of his keys and took out a large, cherry red, fire-hydrant looking sprayer with about a hundred labels on it. It was inspected daily. 

WARNING: CAUSTIC TO MONSTERS.

WARNING: USING D.T. CLEAN FOR ANY PURPOSE OTHER THAN INTENDED USE WILL RESULT IN DISFIGUREMENT, LOSS OF SELF, AND MAY CAUSE OR PREVENT DEATH.

LAST INSPECTED __/__/__AT _:__ __

**Y̶̼̝̲͖͇̣͐̿̾o̵̢̱̩͙̣͑ṷ̸̬̲̮͈̂'̴̧̯̳͙̥͛l̷̯͔̠̱͇͕͊̉̉l̵̝̏͐̒̎̃͠ ̷̲̤̱̳̭̞́͋̑͒̆b̷̧̻̙͚͚̤́͆̓̍͌̑e̶͉͈̙̭̬̎͐͐̕͠ ̸̜͉̱̺̠̼͂͠w̷̧̙̹͇̱̠̿̋͋i̷̛͚̰͖͊̇̌͘͘t̸̘͐̐͋̏ḥ̵̾ ̶̤͕͊̐͑͆͝u̶̫͇̼͐͂̿́̽͒s̴͕̍̃ ̷̖̪͖͊͊̈ş̵̜̰̤̼̜͒h̶̡̩͕͔͉͔̃̄o̶̞͉̲͍͇̊̾̍ř̶̢̤̝̤̫͗̆t̵̛̫͉̝͐̈̈̿l̸̦͕̈́̾͝y̸̞̞͍͈̾͐̔̽̑͝ͅ.̵̼͎͓̲͑͒̉͒͠**

He really needed to stop letting himself get distracted.

Before entering, he checked all fifteen safety locks. All of them were active. Good.

He put in a much longer passcode, and the black glass doors of the collider slid open with a hiss of compressed air.

They shut behind him with the same sound. Asher pulled out his special, titanium wool scrubber, and put his hand on the D.T.C trigger.

**R̶͉̍U̸͓̹̎N̵̩͔̣̔̃N̶̺̒I̶̧̥̔̆͝N̴̝̦G̵̨͖̫̏̈́͐ ̸̼̩̀͗P̸̠̰̫̓R̷̦͒͜O̴̦̠̓͋̈́Ć̷̭̘̱͂È̵̡̦D̷͔͚̮̆̏Ű̵͓͠R̶͎̓͠͝Ê̸͕̅ ̵͈̺͉̈̑̈́Ṉ̷̹̑A̸̗̼̺͋̎̕M̵͐͜É̴͇̭̔ ̸͙̇_̷̣̈_̶͚̹̩̔͌̅_̵̼́͂͠_̷̢͛̈̚_̸̗̌͌̎_̶̣͍̐**

**̵̩͐C̸͎͗Ö̴̠̘͍D̸̛͈̲̘͝E̴͙̱̋ ̴̻͈͐̐͝F̴̖̥̒̉͝Ơ̵̑͜R̷͉͎̙̃̌ ̶̮̅̇̔Ȧ̷̲͕P̸͓̈́P̵̺̳̈́̐̚Ṛ̴͋͒Ô̷̠̹̎V̴̰̈́͒A̵̼L̵̜̲̼̈́ ̷͕̾͊R̵̟Ẻ̸̙̜̦̏̑Q̸̙͖̄̋̈U̸̘̣̎́͊I̵͖̖̊R̸̨̺͇͂̈́͝Ḛ̶̦̣̾̌D̶̮̜̠̍**

**̶̡͈̂C̷̠͛Ŏ̷̹D̴͇͕E̸̞̥͔͊̏ ̵̤́͠O̸̥̦̎V̶͓͓͜͝͝͠Ę̷̰͠ͅŘ̴̘͓͓R̵̰̕I̸̡̤͂̌D̸̨̮͕͂Ę̷̳̖̏͒Ň̷̫͇̠**

**̶̨̦̪̀Ẽ̷͕͘R̸̹̍Ṟ̴͌̉O̷̫͉͊̎R̷̢̰̓͛̅**

**̸͖̐̔C̶̰̝͗͐ͅO̴̻̱͆M̵͕̆̽̑M̷̪̳̾̆͒E̷͚͆N̶̢̤͕͐̍Ć̴̫̖̠̂̕I̸̧̩̎͊N̸͕͋̈G̸̳̮̙̑̓.̸̺͐.̷̓̈͜.̶̫̿̊.̷̗͌.̸̻̮͝.̵̙͗ ̸̡͎̟͑̏P̸̹̈́L̵̼̂E̷̼̅Ȧ̸̦̪S̷̩͇̥̈E̴̠͐ ̴̢͇̳̐́͝B̸̧̩͍͠Ạ̷̤͕̾̾͠C̸̼̪͙̋͂͋K̸̩̈́̓̿ͅ ̵̛͉̓͜Ą̴̼͔̇̅W̶̲͚̽̔̎A̵̛̼̜Ȳ̸͎͖͚̚͘ ̷̺͎̔̆̊F̴̣͚̅Ȑ̶̳͓̩͐͠Ó̸͔M̶̜̝̿͐͝ ̷̡̺̎̂C̸̯̺̀̂̎͜Õ̸̤̪̟̑̎L̴̖͕̥̂̕L̷̻̙̋͑Į̸̧̈́D̸̡̢͋̚E̸̙̒Ȓ̵͎̅ ̶̲̤̃͐D̵̲̾ͅÒ̷̪͕̇O̵̺̘̕Ṟ̴͇͂̈̋S̶̟͈̣̒̉̅.̴̻͋̕**

Wait what the FUCK

**Ş̸͚̂C̴̫͉͖̏A̷̻̅̈N̴̰̓N̶͉̩̝͠Ȉ̴̟̘̄͌N̶̮̆Ģ̵͓͉̈́͂ ̸̦̉̃F̴̢̋̈́̇O̷̹͌̽͌ͅR̸͎̈́̍ ̵̢̟̫̈́͝Ĺ̵̜̉͘I̶̤̤̞̾̈͐V̸̢͚̿I̴̺̋̌Ň̸̡͇͙G̸̟͙̺̋ ̴̡̬̍̃Ỏ̴̰Ḅ̶͚̦̈̈́̌J̴̜̪͇͌͝E̸̘͚̓͠Ċ̵͚̺T̸̥̻̓̉͋S̶̨̲͙̅̚.̷̟̰̓̌ ̶̞͑̎̈**

**̶̞͖͋1̴̛͙̮̞͋͑ ̷̮̝̉̈O̸̭̬͊͐͝B̴̖̼̣J̴̹̈́E̵̥͎̝̒͌C̷̬̅T̶̯̉͗͐ ̷̤͈̱̋̈̏F̷̫͑̿Ō̶̭̫͋̀ͅU̴̢̥̔N̷̨̺̱̅Ḋ̷̤.̸̨̛̞̍**

**̵͓̂Ạ̷͚̊L̴̝̘̜̋̿L̷͎͗̿ ̸̳̒͗̕C̷̡̗̈L̸̈́̓ͅḘ̴͖̔͒Â̴̧̻R̵͙͛̓͒.̶̛̼̕**

**̴̰̗͋Ċ̴̢̺͂̽Õ̷̟̥̔Ḿ̶̫M̶̻͔̒͝E̵̩͇̟͊̃N̶̥͕̒͝C̵̛̯̠̀̂I̴͓̯̝͛͐͘N̴̳̠͑͠͠Ĝ̸̭͙̝̂ ̷̦̅I̷̧͂̽̾ͅN̸̤͎̻̿̍ ̸̺̑̈̓5̴͈̮͗͑̕**

**“HELP! PLEASE HELP ME! SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF!”**

Asher hurled himself at the EMERGENCY STOP button, slammed it down once.

**4̴̡̙̬͛͛**

Twice, three times, four times, countless times. Nothing was working nothing was working

**3̷͇̺**

**_“HELP ME! DEAR GODS, FUCK, PLEASE! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!”_ **

**2̴̱̬̍̓**

Asher screamed until his throat was hoarse

**1̴̨͖̇̈́͝ ̴̪̦̠̽͝:̵̡̦̅͠)̴͇̊**

But nobody came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took me 3 fucking chapters to get to the actual beginning of the story, hehehe. I did my best to introduce the world and characters before springing something like this on you.


	4. Of Corpse Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I recognize that the title of this chapter may be alarming, but Asher is still alive.

“Right. Th-thank you. We’ll be on our way.” *click*

“Who was that, Fi?”

The King of Underfell hid his irritation at being woken at 3 AM. It was part and parcel of being an active king, but it was also endlessly frustrating, considering its frequency.

“Fi?” He asked. “Where are we going at this hour? Those vulture bureaucrats can wait till tomorrow.”

She slowly shook her head, hands trembling as she turned around.

The expression on his wife’s face was one he hadn’t seen since their children had died. As soon as she put the house phone down, she tossed her cell and wallet into her purse.

“Fi, it’s 3 in the morning. What happened?”

Nope. His wife was in a state of shock. She wasn’t going to tell him anything like that. Deep breaths, he reminded himself. Don’t get worked up. Don’t scare her off again.

“Fafriel. What happened.”

Nothing. 

Before, he would have raised his voice until she answered him, but he knew better. A hundred years or so of separation had taught him that.

“I’ll call the babysitter.”

Beep…. Beep…. Beep……

What was that annoying beeping sound? Asher reached to turn his alarm clock off, but his arm wouldn’t move.

He wasn’t in his house.

What had happened?

All at once, the memories hit him. The excruciating pain in his body started at his arm and spread like wildfire. He involuntarily screamed and a clearly inexperienced and shaken nurse dashed in, yelling into a walkie-talkie.

“He’s alive! Oh, gods, it’s a miracle, he’s alive!”

Something was blocking his view of her face… something reflective. 

The mask and the glass surrounding him told him that he’d been tanked in liquid magic to keep him stable. It really had been as horrible as his mind told him. 

“Hello? Ms. Samara? Can you speak?”

He managed to croak his name.

“Asher. I’m really sorry! Can you tell me what day it is?”

“__/__/____.”

“That’s a g-good sign. I’ll be taking care of you for now… Dr. Dreemurr is in a meeting with the other Royal Families.”

Wait, Dr. Dreemurr was a queen? Jeez, being a glen monster really left him out of the loop on stuff. Considering he always saw them on the news, he really should have made the connection earlier.

His stomach flipped.

“G-gonna puke,” he managed.

“G-go ahead, Mr. Asher. The tube attached to your mask will drain it away then self clean.”

The feeling of vomit sitting against his mouth made him want to die, but the nurse hadn’t lied. It was gone in seconds.

“It’s q-quite a handy machine. If the sensors find more fluid buildup in your lungs, th-the tube will get rid of that, as well as any sap you might cough up.”

Now that Asher’s eyes were a little more in focus, he took a look at the nurse. She was a lizard monster, hunched over and anxious. He would be too, but he was too numb. Too drugged out on whatever the hospital put him on. 

He felt the steady pressure of liquid painkiller osmosing through another tube suctioned to his arm. It certainly beat needles. 

“How’s y-your pain level?”

“Z.”

“Th-that’s not a number.”

“I know…. Just messing with you,” Asher attempted to smile, but his muscles weren’t doing it right. He could feel it.

“I’m g-glad you’re feeling okay enough to joke. That’s always a g-good sign in a patient. Your vitals are gobbledygook, but steady, in their own off-kilter way. Dr. Dreemurr will be in soon. In the meantime, Dr. Clemm will be in to keep you company.”

Clemm? His professor? Was he tripping, or did she just say his teacher was coming into his room?   
“Why?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Dr. Clemm teaches classes at your school, but he’s also a trained emergency response trauma psychiatrist and counselor. I h-hope it’s not too awkward talking to your instructor, but he’s the best guy in t-town, I promise.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Every word out of Asher’s mouth hurt his throat. His voice was deeper, phlegmy. 

Knock knock. Speak of the devil.

“You can come in, Dr. Clemm.”

“Right. Would you mind opening the door for me, Alphys dear? I have my notepad and phone in my hands.”

“Oh, of course!”

She rushed to the door and pulled it open. Another skeleton? Weren’t they supposed to be rare? Why was Asher meeting one every five minutes?

“.... heh. Fancy meeting you here, Professor.”

Clemm’s already gentle features softened further at seeing Asher. He must be a right mess.

“Alphys, if you wouldn’t mind? If something goes wrong, I’ll press the button.”

“R-right. Confidentiality and all th-that.” the nurse stepped out.

“So… how’s this for more personal?” Asher chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“You match my younger son to a tee. Always making light of the painful to spare others, I’m sure… but I shouldn’t make assumptions. Yes, Asher, this is certainly more personal than I expected. Now then, you understand your rights as a patient, yes? I cannot, and will not divulge your personal information without your consent, unless I feel that you are going to hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Thanks, yeah. I briefly went to therapy before.”

“Excellent. So… let’s talk. It can be about anything you want. It doesn’t even have to relate to what’s happening right now, but you can talk about that if you want to.”

Asher stiffened.

“...... Do you have a mirror? I want to see what’s left of me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m used to not liking what I see. Just show me. No one else will do it and you know it.”

“...”

Clemm hadn’t expected to get woken at 3 in the morning, but as soon as he’d gotten the reason why, he’d packed his tools and set off in his car. He hated to admit it, but he could no longer teleport that far.

He hadn’t been given much information as to the nature of the accident, to prevent it from leaking to human media. All he knew was that it happened in the science building after hours, to a student janitor. There was a pit in his stomach that told him what had occurred; it would explain the surge in his own magic not much earlier. 

There was a stirring in the VOID. And he hoped to the gods that he wouldn’t pull in to pronounce a death.

Now that student was staring him in the eye with his? Her? Dark grey eyes, their foggy white eyelights piercing into him. 

He couldn’t say no. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I’ll… go get you a mirror.”

“Just take a picture and show it to me.” There was an age-old heaviness in the student’s face, as if he had lived for a hundred years. Hesitantly, Clemm took a picture with his phone. He had to retake it a couple of times, no thanks to his trembling hands. The student’s hands trembled in their restraints as well. A bad sign.

Each step towards the youth felt like a hundred miles. He really, really didn’t want to be the one to do this, but they would be more at risk if they saw themselves with no one to help them process.

It took Asher’s eyes a couple of seconds to focus onto the picture of him, and when he did, he wished he had never asked.

He was horrible.

The moss in his hair was black like broom bristles. His once vibrant yellow eyelights were a muted white, like steam, and his body looked like it’d been left in a forest fire and dipped in an oil spill at the same time. His soul was a marble of black and purple in his chest, and each beat of it hurt him to his core. He looked dead. He should be.

He wished he was.

He didn’t realize he was crying, but he felt the water dripping from his eyelids onto his face.

“I’m... horrible.”

“Nonsense… you’re----”

“I look like a fucking corpse, Professor. This is what my people look like when we’re buried in the ground. You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings…. I know the truth.”

Bingo, Clemm thought.

“Alright, I’ll have to stop you right there.”

“What?” Asher asked, confused.

“Let’s analyze that statement. You say that I don’t have to lie to spare your feelings, because you look like a corpse. But I have never seen a dryad corpse in my life, so I cannot lie to you about something I don’t have any concept of in the first place.”

“Oh… shit, you’re right.”

“Now, you know what the corpse of your kind looks like. But the truth is based on fact, and as much as your brain says your opinions are the truth, your perspective is warped by the fact that you just went through one of the most horrible events of your life.”

“That kind of helps… not much, but a little.”

Clemm beamed. “That’s what a therapist does. We’re lawyers against the angry voices in your head.”

That got a chuckle out of Asher.

“Look, Clemm, I appreciate it a lot, but I’m starting to get really sleepy.”

“You’ll be out for a couple of days. The tank is putting you to sleep so that all your magic can focus on stabilizing you. I’m glad I got to talk to you a bit before you went out,” the professor smiled. “Don’t worry too much about my class, alright? We can work something out when you’re capable of working again.”

Asher yawned, nodding. “I appreciate it, Prof. Nighty night.”

“Goodnight, Asher.”

Asher gasped himself awake.

There was some dust on his tank, but not too much. Someone put a sticky note on the front.

“When you wake up, press the call button. 

-Alphys”

Would he even be able to? Remembering how much it hurt just to move his hand terrified him.

Before he knew it, his arm shakily pressed the button. 

**P̶̦͕̪͛̏͊r̷̬͓̯͝e̶̺̮̅̀͊s̸͖̯̈͌̄͝s̴̜͌͆̕è̴͚̪̜̱̅̒d̷͚̺̦͗̿̎̉ ̷̡̝̟̥̃̿ṱ̵̯̥̈́͌͛ḥ̵̺͔͍͂͛e̵̢̛͓͙ ̴͉̈́͊̚b̴̗̻̓̂͂͝u̶͙̣̱̬̿̒t̵͕̳̦̯͌̏͊͠t̶͕͓̞͗̕o̸̖̅͒̽ņ̷̣̠͋͝**

**̷͙͕͑̅̚P̵͐̔͜r̷̻͗ë̴̛͕̟́̅̾s̸͓̤͇̮͛̍̒s̶̳̹̮͙̕ę̸̛͇̲̊͑d̸̦̼̒ ̷̫̜̑͜t̸̘̿̽h̵̰͓́̈́̒͝e̶̮͊ ̶̥̥̈̐͆̅ͅb̵̲̮̀̋̎̓ṵ̵͖͂t̶͇̼́̇̀̐t̶̜̎͊o̸̰͉̖̍n̶͓͕͓͗**

**̶̞̼̈́̈́B̷͚̖͚̈́͗͊͗ũ̶̡̳͊t̶̼̤͙̋̊͋ ̴̯̠̗̍n̶͍̼̪͋͌ǒ̴̘b̵̯̍̓́ọ̸̅̕͝ḑ̸̲̲͋͌̎y̴̛̝̦̜̟͑́̕ ̵̯̹̂͊c̵͚͇̰̐̓ä̵̠̥́̈́̌͝m̴̹̮̺͔̈́̓͘ě̵̩̣̣͐**

**̵̤͈̞̲̆B̴̗̱͙͐̽̈́̽ü̶̲̝͇̇͑͘t̷͎̍̆̚ ̴̛̗̤͈͛͌n̸͕̺̱͈̔̀o̷͙̅̕b̴̛̖̒ȯ̶̙̥d̷̦͑̂͝y̸̰͐ ̸̬̓̎͠͠c̸̖̄̇͛a̵͖͇͖͚̒m̴͇̪̟̩̌͛ȅ̴̩͛͝**

**̴͉͓͓̀͘B̷͚̤̞́̐ṷ̶̈̈t̶̨̯̙̓̈́̌ ̷̦͚̪̓͗̃n̵̻̔̏ǒ̶̼͔̉̇b̶͓̲̕o̶̹͖͓͋͊̎d̵̗̓͌̈́́y̴̞͓̝̓̕ ̷̧͔͎̈ͅc̵̳̋̽͛͘a̴͙̥̋̎͆m̸̹̳̌̈́e̶̘̤̽͂**

“A-are you alright, Asher? You’re awake a full day early. Asher? Asher? C-can you see the hand I’m waving in front of you?”

“Huh? What? Oh… hey, Alphys.”

“H-hello! I’m glad you were able to press---- move your hand! That’s a g-great sign already. I’m gonna d-drain the tank, and open the hatch. Will you t-try to sit up for me then?”

Asher managed to nod.

With a hiss, the liquid magic drained out of the tank, and the hatches opened. With some effort, he sat about halfway up before collapsing.

“Hey, that’s okay. A-anyone would have trouble after all your body’s been through.”

Alphys took hold of his shoulders.

“Let’s try it again, t-together. Ready?”

“Yeah.”

With her extra muscle, Asher managed to sit up and stay that way. The tank bent forward like a lawn chair to prop him in place.

“Your vitals are still making their own kind of sense, but you are alive, you’ve displayed 0% risks of immortality, and your body composition is…. Mostly solid. I’m gonna call in Dr. D-Dreemurr, and she’s gonna talk to you about your opt-options.”

Options? What the hell did that mean? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness gracious, this was an interesting one to write. I don't know who's more impatient to get out of the hospital, Asher, or me


	5. Environmental Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Dreemurr talks to Asher about his... options. They're not particularly attractive.

It felt like an eternity before Dr. Dreemurr knocked.

“Asher? May I come in? I am also bringing some other Royal Family members. You may accept or refuse to see them, and it will be completely alright.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assented.

The click of dress shoes let him know she was being followed. The door opened, and two very different looking goat monsters followed in behind Dr. Dreemurr.They were a couple, with rick dark hair and mahogany eyes that watched him with unreadable expressions.

The woman introduced herself first, holding out a hand.

“How do you do? My name is Fafriel Dreemurr, and I am the current queen of the Underfell Kingdom and its peoples. It is lovely to meet you, and to be sure that you’re alright… well, alright enough.” Her language and enunciation were a little stiff, but Asher could tell she wanted to be there. He shook her hand.

“You’re meant to kiss it,” the male grumbled from back in his chair.

“Gorey, he’s not one of our subjects. He’s not required to follow such outdated protocols.”

“Hmph,” the male replied.

“Come introduce yourself, you curmudgeon.”

He sighed. “You’re right… I’m being unreasonable. Good afternoon, young dryad. I am King Fafgore of the Underfell Kingdom. I am pleased to see you talking and moving.”

“Hehe, am I supposed to kiss your hand?” Asher joked, trying to loosen him up.

There’s a beat of silence. Both women are frozen stiff.

Then raucous laughter from the man. “Oh, goodness! You certainly know how to break the ice. In all my centuries of performing as King, not once has a male monster asked if he needed to kiss my hand, even those attracted to other males. No, you do not need to kiss my hand, but you may if you feel so inclined.”

Asher elected to shake it. This seemed fine.

“Excellent. Now, let’s get down to business…. Dr. Dreemurr, if you’d explain the technicalities.”

The doctor took a deep breath, sighing with relief.

“.... Mr. Asher, you have a serious, irreversible case of VCD I and II. Void contamination disease, and its mental counterpart, Void Contamination Disorder.”

“What does that mean? I didn’t take past Intro To Monster Bio,” Asher admitted.

“It means that the concentrated VOID that the Collider lets into reality to do its work has been completely absorbed into your body. It is now inseparable from you.”

Dr. Dreemurr hands him a very outdated looking brochure.

“I apologize for the datedness of the documentation, but this has not happened in a very long time. Anyways, VOID contamination on your level has enormous consequences on your mental stability and physical functions.”

“Like what? You’re being pretty vague.”

She winced. “I’m sorry…. I just really do not wish to see you suffer, child.”

Asher swallowed. “I can take it.”

She continued. “You have lost the ability to flower. You are infertile.”

These weren’t really bad news, since Asher had never wanted children or flowers in the first place.

“You are infertile both in the sense of reproduction and in a magical sense. You can no longer grow living plants with the touch of your hand, as far as we know, and your bullet patterns… I don’t know what they’re going to look like now, but please be exceedingly careful with using your magic.”

He nodded.

“You will experience symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, memory loss, nonsensical or garbled memories, memories belonging to other people or timelines, random facts or premonitions that turn out to be true, headaches, and you are no longer photoreceptive. You will have to eat much more food than you are likely used to.”

He nodded, a little more weakly.

“Thankfully, the DTC container did not burst or puncture during the Colliding process, or we would be looking at something much worse, but I understand that this is hard news to bear…. Other symptoms include chronic pain, partial molecular and magical instability, loss of ability to heal others unless they are also contaminated, difficulty exerting your body or magic, and tremors. Considering the severity of your contamination, any of these symptoms are possible at any time. There is little we can do to mitigate these issues other than physical and psychological therapy…. I’m sorry,” Dr. Dreemurr gulped. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“So… I’m guessing I can’t go back to work.”

Dr. Dreemurr shook her head.

“How am I supposed to make rent? Buy groceries?”

“You cannot. Not reliably.”

Asher’s breath picked up. Panic was rising through his roots.

“What am I supposed to do? Am I gonna be put away in some nursing home with a lady spoon-feeding me?!”

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of your remaining faculties, and maddening, I’m sure, for a man as young and alert as yourself,” Fafgore stopped him. “This is where my wife and I would like to come in. We have an alternative proposition for you. You can accept or revoke your consent at any time.”

Asher took deep breaths and tried to listen.

Dr. Dreemurr handed him a cup of tea, his bed manifesting a table to steady it. He couldn’t drink it. His hands almost knocked the cup over until he tucked them under his thighs.

She handed him a silly straw with a strained smile. He took it with his mouth and drank the tea in slow sips.

It did make him feel just a little better.

“We would like to, as the Royal Families, with my wife and I at the helm, offer you a lifelong trust fund and assistance. You would not be wealthy, but you would want for nothing. You could live in any assisted living facility you liked, or with an attendant, but you would retain your independence.”

“That doesn’t sound very independent.”

“It is the best we can do,” Fafgore sighed. “I know how frustrating this must be for you. A close confidant of mine underwent this many years ago.”

Asher’s lower lip trembled.

The last things he’d used to cope with life had been taken away.

“W-with all respect, your Highness…. You can’t.”

Fafgore nodded sagely. “In any case, we would like to offer you our deepest apologies for what has happened, and our assistance. This phone number is a direct line to our house. Please avoid sharing it if possible. You may contact us at any time, no matter the hour, and we will respond.” He handed Asher… a business card, amusingly enough. Asher nodded his thanks.

“Well… we would strongly recommend that you do not drive home. Do you have a ride, or would you like us to arrange for someone?” Dr. Dreemurr asked.

“I-- I can f-find someone on my app.”

“Alright. Your clothes and personal items that survived are in the cabinet over there. Please use the rails if you have difficulty walking to it, but you should have about 80% faculty in your legs or more.”

The queen of Underfell approached Asher, a slightly softer look in her harsh expression.

She took a knee on the ground, and clasped his hand tightly.

“My deepest apologies…. This should never have happened. If you decide to accept our assistance, you will be like my own child. You will want for nothing.”

Fafgore and Asher both bristled a bit at the mention of children.

“Thank you…. I need some time to think, your Highness.”

She shook her head. “Fafriel is fine, child.”

He nodded. Fafgore approached next. He gave Asher a deep bow, then kissed Asher’s hand.

“You do not need to be alone. My wife and I are not the most exciting company, but our assistance will always be available to you.”

Asher nodded again. The royal couple departed, leaving only Dr. Dreemurr.

“I apologize if they seemed a bit over-formal… that is the nature of their kingdom.”

“It’s okay,” Asher tried to smile.

“I recognize this is a bit unprofessional, but… may I hug you?”

That broke Asher. Tears rushed down his face, and he managed a yes between hitched sobs. Her fur enveloped him, and he could feel the fire of her magic imbued in her warmth. 

“I c---can’t remember the last time I was held,” he whimpered. She pulled him in closer. 

“I imagined… you have no family or partner listed in your records. I heard a young man demanding to see you, but he doesn’t seem much of a partner, if you’ll forgive me for saying.”

Asher just assented, trying to control his breathing. 

“I j-just want us to be happy again.”

“Take on one issue at a time, my child. Just one issue, one day, one step at a time. You may want to take some time to focus on your own happiness.”

He stared up at her, terror and pain in his eyes.

“.... How?”

Dr. Dreemurr held him longer still, trying not to cry herself, before letting go. 

“Here is my number as well. There is a temporary walking stick by your clothes for you to use as you need it. I hope to hear from you, but you are not obligated to an old lady like me. Please… take care of yourself.” With that, she left.

Asher wiped his tears up. They looked like muddy water in his hands. Disgusting. Every part of him was disgusting.

Even so, someone probably needed this hospital room, so he took his first shaky steps off the bed, reaching for the walking stick. It was a sickly pink. He hated it, but whenever he loosened his grip on it, his knees started to buckle, so he was stuck with it for now.

Even putting on his clothes or opening his app required several attempts, his hands spasming every time he tried to do a button or press a letter on his keyboard.

Eventually, he managed to send a message to Scamp to pick him up.

SCAMP: OFFLINE

Shit. He really didn’t want anyone else to see him like this. To pick him up and wrinkle their nose.

There was a second knock on the door.

“Hey, princey, you still in there?”

Asher hurriedly zipped up his jeans and buttoned his polo.

“Y-yeah, come inside.”

There was a snort, before the door opened. “Jesus, princey…. Let’s get you home, okay?” Cinn sighed, gently helping Asher up. It was hard to get used to the kind of tenderness that people were treating him with lately. Hopefully, gods he hoped it wasn’t pity.

Cinn moves him into the elevator, and they head down to the parking lot.

“Normally you could gimme an address and I’d port ya home, but I don’t wanna move you through spacetime in your state, so driving it is.”

He walked Asher to an ‘86 Grand Prix in nearly perfect condition, a stark contrast to the walking wreck of a Lada that Scamp drove around. 

“This is certainly an upgrade.”

“From what?” Cinn sees his phone. “Aww, please don’t tell me you’ve gotten in the walkin’ spontaneous combustion hazard that is Scamp’s car.”

“I have. He’s actually my favorite driver on the app. Law-breaking as fuck, but he gives a smooth ride…. Uh, in the car! As a driver” Asher quickly corrected himself.

“So ya know about Scamp’s side gig too, huh… I highly recommend. His aftercare’s the shit.”

If Asher had been drinking anything, he would have spit it out.

“Anyways, let’s get ya nice and comfy in there.” He scooped Asher up and placed him in the front passenger seat, bundling him up with a nice blanket.

“I’m not an old lady, Cinn.”

“Believe me. Yer gonna be a lot more sensitive to the temperature from now on.”

They slowly backed out of the parking lot, and Asher gave him the address. Cinn seemed to know where he was going, until he took a wrong turn and missed an exit.

“Whoops,” he chuckled, continuing to drive.

After his fifth mistake, Asher caught on.

“You’re stalling.”

“I--err----”

“Nope. That’s all the answer I need,” Asher chuckled dryly. “What I do wanna know is why.”

Cinn sighed, then found a nice stretch of road to pull over in. The car came to a stop.

“Look, I…. I’m not tryin’ ta kidnap you or anything like that. I just…. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t really wanna take you back to that piece of shit you live with. I know his type. He’s not gonna support you in the slightest. I know you handle his bull all the time, but if he disrespects ya again in front of me like that… I don’t know if I can handle myself.”

Asher pinched his forehead.

“Look, Cinn. You don’t know me or him that well, and even if you’re right, we can’t avoid reality forever. So stop taking the scenic infinity route and just get me to where I need to go.”

Cinn’s shoulders drooped a bit, but he agreed. The Grand Prix started up again, and they were at Asher’s apartment complex in five minutes.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, this place is a walkin’ ADA violation. Is there a fuckin’ elevator in there?”

Asher shrugged.

“What floor do ya live on?”

“9th.”

“Please. I know I’m meddlin’ too much for your taste, but let me walk you up the stairs. I don’t trust that flimsy fuckin’ cane.”

Asher finally smiled a bit. “Hehe, me neither. Maybe next paycheck I can….” he went silent. Cinn accepted the quiet, and they slowly worked their way up the stairs.

As they got on the ninth floor, no thanks to the lack of handrails, Asher’s soul started to pick up. He was finally home. His bed and coffee maker were waiting for him. 

He knocked to let his partner know ahead of time that he was home. “Theo? I’m back!”

No answer.

“You wanna open the door? My keys got destroyed.”

B̴̲̙͉̂ȕ̵̞̠t̴̹͆͑͆ ̴̨͋͘n̶͇̮̹̑̒o̷̲̚b̵̨͍̲̌͋̂ȯ̸̡̯̻d̷̜̳̊̇͜y̶̞̻͊ ̷̟̫̭̑c̶̟̫̠̋a̴̩̐m̵̺͚͗͛ȩ̵̢̮͆.̵̮̋̔͠

“Theo? Theo! Look, I know you’re mad, but I really don’t have any keys.”

n̶̹̬͇̅̔o̷̗̐̄̚b̴̢̮̈́̆̚ò̶̬d̵͎̠͆̄̚y̴̖͙̝̍͝ ̷̘̈́̾͊c̵̮͂̄ͅä̸̱͍̪̚m̷̼͋e̶͍̓͝

̸̮̹̫̈͛̎ṉ̶̯ȍ̶̮̔b̶̢̪͛̃͘ȏ̸̺̞̾d̷̗̼̓̂͐y̸̢̖̒͊̋ ̴͇͒c̸̞̹̑̈́a̷̮͖͊m̸̬̮͇̐̃̈́e̵̫͗

̶̠͝n̷̪̪͌̊ō̴̱b̴̻͌ō̶̖͝d̸͍̩̔͊͝y̶̮̞̓͐̋ ̸͔c̴̳͆a̵̖̟̓̚m̵̥̻̻̃̿̈́ę̵̪̹̉͝

“I’m bustin’ the door down. This bastard has some fuckin’ nerve!” Cinn growled. “Can you stand on yer own for a minute?” Asher tested it, and nodded.

“Stand back.”

The big skeleton threw his shoulder into the door hard, busting it right off its hinges.

Air dust flew everywhere, as if it had been settling for… 

Days.

“... I don’t hear anything…” Asher’s voice cracked.

“Maybe the cunt’s asleep. Let’s check it out ‘fore assuming anything.” Cinn carefully helped Asher down a couple of steps into his apartment.

It was almost completely empty.

His bed, his CRT television, his vintage coffee maker, his teapot, their minifridge, everything. Everything but dirty dishes, a note, and something crumpled up under one of the closets.

_ “I tell you to come home at 10 PM.  _

_ You decide my word’s worth shit to you and go to work without even stopping by. _

_ A whole week goes by and neither you nor the hospital could be bothered to contact me.  _

_ You’re never at home, you’re never in bed, and I’m sick of you neglecting me and acting like I don’t exist, just because I tell you things that you don’t wanna hear. _

_ Sorry, but the fire’s just not there anymore. _

_ Theo.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a painful chapter to write. The feelings of helplessness that Asher experiences are pretty familiar to me, and Theo's voice is based a lot on abusive people I have met and suffered at the hands of in real life, as well as people who have hurt my friends.


	6. Prince Albert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinn and Asher take a look around the apartment. The little that's left isn't pretty.

Asher’s hands spasmed hard, ripping the note right in half.

“Lemme see that shit. I swear to gods I’m gonna rip that bastard’s flames right outta his head,” Cinn growled, looking the note over. “Fucking hell, how selfish can he be? You were---”

“In the hospital, I know. I was there,” Asher covered his face with his hands. His body was trembling.

Hands gently took his and pulled them down.

“Hey, easy…. Breathe with me.”

“That shit never works.”

“You ain’t ever done it with me,” Cinn insisted, before pulling Asher into a hug, sitting down. Normally, Asher recoiled from touch in times like this, but he just needed to be held right now.

With his head on Cinn’s chest, he could follow the skeleton’s breathing. Usually shit saying to breathe and meditate just frustrated Asher, but was surprising how much it was helping right now.

“Your soul sounds like a drum. One of those cowhide ones,” he noted.

“Heh, thanks, I think?” Cinn shrugged.

“Sorry… I tend to hear minute differences in soul sounds. Theo always sounded like the pop of a fireplace.”

Asher sighed, before slowly getting up. 

“Let’s see if there’s anything else left.”

He opened the closet. Theo took all his fucking clothes. All his sketchbooks. Everything was---was everything gone? There was something peeking out of the bottom of Theo’s closet. Asher opened it.

Panties.

He slammed it shut.

“Piece of  **shit!** ”

“What was it?” Cinn asked. 

“Look in there and find out!” Asher fumed.

Cinn opened the door. “Oh, you gotta be shittin’ me.”

“He left that there on purpose. He’s rubbing it in my goddamn face how little I meant to him.”

“Sick bastard probably thinks that leavin’ this here would show how much you “neglected” him,” Cinn corrected.

“Neglected him?” Asher paused. “The hell do you mean?”

“Guys like these? Only ever think ‘bout themselves. If he left these here, he probably thinks they’ll make ya miss him. That you neglected ‘im so much that he turned to other people. It really just means that he’s a textbook fuckin’ narcissist, though. Literally can’t step outside of his own fuckin’ ‘suffering’.”

“Bastard,  _ bastard,  _ **bastard!”** Asher’s voice cracked again, and he picked up the panties and tossed them at a wall.

“Er, ya sure you wanna touch those?”

“I don’t give a fuck right now. I’ll wear them on my goddamn  **head** if I want.”

Cinn knew he shouldn’t laugh, but shit if that image wasn’t funny.

Asher turned to face him, and he shut his mouth. Until Asher started cracking up himself.

“Oh, man! I can’t believe I actually touched them… I think I’d rather die than wear them on my head, actually.”

“Waita sec, I think I know whose these are,” Cinn chuckled.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Lemme look at the tag.” He checked them with gravity magic, then showed Asher.

They were embroidered.  _ Return to Scamp _

“Holy shit. Gimme a second,” Asher smirked. He pulled out his phone.

Your Passenger Wants to Chat!

Accept?

Your Chat Began on __/__/____

Ash3rslash3r: hey scamp

these yours?

_ Ash3rslash3r sent an image. _

Scampalicious: oh son of a bitch! where did you get those? been looking everyfuckinwhere

Ash3rslash3r: my partner jumped ship and left these for me to find in his closet

you want em back?

Scampalicious: look please don’t get pissed off at me. it’s business. i can’t stop guys from cheating.

Ash3rslash3r: O is that what this sounded like? Omg it is

Ash3rslash3r: I’m not mad at all Scamp I know it’s your job. I just wanted to know if he was any good.

Scampalicious: what’s the serial number on the panties?

Ash3rslash3r: There’s a fucking serial number?

Scampalicious: look these things are important pieces of equipment. I gotta keep track of em

Ash3rslash3r: That’s so strange, but true. I never thought of it that way

Ash3rslash3r: They say 345-90-446

Scampalicious: lemme check my ledger

Ash3rslash3r: you have a panty ledger. Like I see how it makes sense that you would but still 

Scampalicious: Says here the last time they were worn was with an “albert theodore bunsen”

Ash3rslash3r: Lmao he gave you his full name?

Scampalicious: no I just always look through their wallet. If they don’t pay me I know their full name and license number

Ash3rslash3r: smart

Scampalicious: you gotta be to make it in the business

Ash3rslash3r: can I ask you something?

Scampalicious: as long as I get my panties back

Ash3rslash3r: Yeah of course

Ash3rslash3r: Which name did he ask you to moan

Scampalicious: holy shit how did I forget XD?? He wanted me to moan Albert I’m glad I was so high otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face

Ash3rslash3r: I fucking knew it! Every time he tried to pressure me into fucking him that’s what he wanted

Scampalicious: jeez… that  _ blows _

Ash3rslash3r: hehehehe

Ash3rslash3r: Anyways next time I get a ride from you I’ll give them back

Scampalicious: thanks, that shit’s expensive

Cinn was in conniptions, laughing so hard he crumpled onto the floor.

“Albert! Albert! Fuckin’ Albert!” was all he could say.

Asher couldn’t help but laugh with Cinn. His rich, growly chuckle was godsdamn contagious.

“Yep. Albert. Or Al. I’m not kidding.”

“I’m sure there’s some out there, but I can’t thinkuva less sexy name right now!”

“Right? You’d think he’d want me to call him Theo, but no. He needed his Albert fix… not that he ever got it.”

Cinn paused. “Wait, you never banged him?”

“... I tried. My body… I didn’t really like showing it or having it touched before. Now I honestly want to hide in a paper bag, but we never went past me trying and failing to blow him.”

“Wow. Never fuckin’ reciprocated, did he?”

“I didn’t really want him to… see my parts.”

“I’m sure your parts are fine, but… yeah. I don’t know ‘bout that sort of thing. At least you don’t have memories of that little shit banging ya.”

“Yeah…” Asher smiled a little. “It was always such a massive source of guilt for me… and now it’s just immensely relieving.”

“Well… what’s the game plan?” Cinn asked.

“What do you mean? I’m sleeping in here until rent is due and then I’ll hit the streets again.”

“Again? Wait, weren’t the King and Queen gonna cover for ya?”

“I can’t accept that. I… I’m not a charity case. I’ve lived on a bench before and I can do it at any time.”

Cinn shook his head, his red eyelights resolute. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.”

“What do you mean, no? You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Come on, dumbass!” Cinn barked at him. Asher recoiled a bit.

“I… I’m sorry. Look. Princey. Ya might’ve been able to survive back then, but now? ‘S not happenin’. You can’t photosynthesize, and ya can’t work either. I’m not lettin’ ya starve. Hell, I don’t even know how you’d get down the stairs tomorrow mornin’.”

Asher shrugged.

“Look. Stay at my place. Just fer tonight. Lemme find you somethin’ that won’t make you feel like a burden.”

Asher really didn’t want to accept, but the pleading look Cinn was giving him was impossible to say no to.

“F-fine. But only while I have to. And I’m paying for groceries.”

“You got you’se---- you got yourself a deal. Let’s get the fuck outta this shanty.”

“Was that a fucking you’se?”

Cinn cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

“Let’s go.”

“Heh, yeah.”

Cinn had only come out of a barfight with a friend once, and that was the first time he and Sparkby butted heads. Sparks almost bashed his head in with a chair, Cinn tried to crack Sparkby’s with his own martini shaker. The other monsters had emptied the bar, leaving them to kill each other.

After realizing that neither of them wanted to die, Cinn had floated them both a Sea Tea, and they hit it off from there. Sure, they still butted heads, but nothing like the first night they’d met.

Every scuffle at Sparkby’s since then had ended in someone else’s dust in his jacket pockets.

So when his pal had knocked the little sapling to the ground for being mouthy, Cinn didn’t know why he gave a shit. He just knew that he did. A lot. Enough to get sap in his Pontiac and drive him to the hospital. Enough to stay the night and make sure he didn’t dust in his sleep.

He wasn’t the most touchy-feely guy. He held his little bro when he needed it, and that was about that. Sure, he fucked, but it took a lot for him to show his tender side. 

Something about this pissed off, wronged-by-the-world dryad made him want to show it all the time.

Even so, Cinn did his best to ignore the low buzz of his magic between his legs. Right now was literally the worst time to make any sort of moves. The little guy looked exhausted, achey, and his tremors were steadily worsening as Cinn drove them to his place.

“Look, yer tired, I can tell. Lemme carry you.”

“No, Cinn, that’s ridiculous.”

“Really? Try an’ stand up.”

His new charge grouchily accepted after almost eating shit, cane and all.

By the time they got up the elevator, Asher was already asleep. Cinn didn’t blame him; he’d had a long week.

“Bro, I’m home. Got my hands full, so wouldya mind undoin’ the locks?”

A crimson red eyelight looked through the peephole.

“HMPH, I’M NOT CONVINCED. WHAT’S SOMETHING THAT ONLY MY BROTHER WOULD KNOW?”

“That yer bein’ a fuckin’ butthead right now.”

A raspy chuckle resounded from the other side of the door, before his little bro undid all fifteen locks on their apartment. Thank goodness Vanilla owned the building. Any other landlord would have thrown a fucking fit.

“IS THAT THE VICTIM OF THE ACCIDENT? WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT HER HERE? SHOULDN’T SHE BE IN THE HOSPITAL, CINN?” His bro sounded pissed, but that was just his voice. Cinn knew he was trying to hide his concern.

“Look, he’s tired, he don’t have nobody at home anymore, and I can explain all this shit tomorrow. I’m droppin’ him in my bed and sleeping on the couch.”

“.... FINE. BUT I EXPECT SAID EXPLANATION TOMORROW.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

That never failed to make his little brother smile.

Before setting Asher down, Cinn used gravity magic to change the sheets. Just because he lived in filth didn’t mean the sapling deserved to. He carefully placed the dryad in bed, before tucking him in just the way Edge used to like. Asher started purring. Aw.

As he was about to leave, Asher’s hand weakly grabbed his jacket. He was definitely still asleep, but he also wasn’t letting go. Without waking him up, Cinn pulled off his prized jacket and laid it on top of Asher for extra warmth. He knew how cold Asher would get tonight. Hell, he might as well use the heated blanket while he was at it. Perfect. Maximum comfort had been achieved. His job was done, and he could go crash on the couch.

Asher reached for him again, grabbing his shirt.

“Goddamn it kid, you want me to strip fer you or something?”

Asher made a displeased sound, shifting a bit, but not letting go.

“Fine. I’ll get in. But don’t be a prude about it tomorrow mornin’.”

He shuffled in, careful not to disturb him. The dryad hung on tightly to him, purring hard.

Cinn remembered outlines for two air mattresses in the apartment. When was the last time Asher had shared a bed with his partner? 

Even though he was clearly playing substitute for someone else, Cinn didn’t feel too weird about it. It was kinda peaceful, actually, the gentle gray glow of Asher’s body in the dark. His breathing sounded a little the rustle of wind through leaves.

He could get used to this.


	7. The Cutting Edge of Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher is treated to breakfast in a non-dysfunctional home. It feels weird.

Asher smelled eggs. Was Theo cooking?

“Thanks, Theo,” He mumbled, before cuddling up in bed.

“Err, I think you’re lost, princey.”

Asher squeaked, almost falling out of the bed. “Why are you sleeping with me?”

“You death gripped my jacket and wouldn’t let go,” Cinn shrugged.

“So just drop the jacket!”

“I did. Then ya grabbed my shirt.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you right away like that,” Asher apologized.

“It’s fine. If there was a weird skeleton in my bed, I’d flip my shit too. Well… technically there’s a weird dryad in my bed right now, but I’m managin’.”

“If you’re in here, is it your brother that’s cooking?”

“Yeah, he never lets me cook unless he’s out. He says it’s because my food sucks, but I know it’s ‘cause he likes cooking too much.”

Asher smiled a little. It was nice to not do the cooking today. He’d come to associate it with stress, anger, and dissatisfaction from his partner.

Ex-partner.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay the night. I’m gonna go hit up a gas station for grub.”

“You don’t need to do that. Breakfast is right here.”

“Your brother’s cooking for you and himself, not the hideous guest you brought over last night.”

“I’LL COOK FOR WHOEVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE.”

How long had his brother been sitting there? There was a smug grin on his fanged face, his leg crossed over his knee. Asher reached up and shut his dropped jaw.

“AND A GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO, GUEST.”

“G-good morning. I’m really sorry for coming in like I did yesterday! I didn’t know I would be---”

“NONE OF--- Ah. Excuse me. Inside voice. None of that. If Cinn trusted you enough to bring you into our home, then I trust Cinn’s judgement on your character.”

Asher stood up and shook the Captain’s hand. “My name’s Asher. It’s nice to meet you. You really don’t have to cook--”

“I know I don’t. But I want to, so I will. Now, I was going to make french toast, but would you prefer something else?”

Asher’s stomach growled. He winced; it never used to be that loud. He’d never been so hungry for food in his life, even on the streets when he was going without.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you, but could you make me an omelet? Mine always look terrible and I haven’t gotten the hang of them.”

Were those stars in Edge’s eyes? They were only there for a second. Maybe Asher had imagined them.

“I’LL DO YOU ONE BETTER AND SHOW YOU HOW TO DO IT PROPERLY! FOLLOW ME!”

And he was off.

“Hehehe, you got him riled up. Hope you like cookin’ lessons,” Cinn smiled, sighing contentedly.

“I usually associate cooking with fighting,” Asher admitted. “But I want to try.”

“That’s all he needs. Now, go make an omelet, princey.”

Asher almost fell on his ass trying to reach the bedroom door. Cinn floated him his cane.

“Right…. Thanks.”

The cane was hard to get used to. It was poor quality, and he could hear it creak with every step he took. Not that he had the money to buy a new one.

“WHAT’S THE HOLDU--- OH. My apologies. I often forget that not all monsters can keep pace with the Captain of the Royal Guard, nyeh heh heh.”

“No, I should have been faster.”

“I WAS BEING IMPATIENT. IT IS ONE OF MY FEW FAULTS. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.”

Asher just nodded, trying to make this conversation go away.

“NOW THEN! THE FIRST--- the first step is prep. And it’s the most important!” Edge smiled brightly at him, showing off very pointed teeth. It was cute. Scary but cute. “What do you like best in your omelet?”

“Errr, usually just ham and cheese. Bacon if I make a little extra change that week.”

“Have you ever considered yellow curry powder?” Edge grinned.

“I hadn’t. I’m willing to give it a shot, though,” Asher agreed, surprised.

“Well. Reach in the fridge and set out the ham, and whatever cheese you like. I have a very large variety, so if you are having trouble deciding, I will be happy to assist.”

“Probably just cheddar.” Asher was a little embarrassed. Some of those individual cheeses were worth more than he made in a shift, and he was a guy of simple tastes anyway.

“Cheddar’s versatility is highly underrated. There is no shame in choosing a safe favorite,” Edge assured him. “Here. A chair so that you can cut cheese off the block without worrying about your cane.” He floated a chair over to the table so that Asher could cut. Asher thanked him and sat down.

“How much am I making? Just for myself, or are we all having omelettes now?”

“We’ll all have omelettes, and I can take my current leftovers to Honey and Azure’s house later. Also, you need the practice.”

Asher nodded and started slicing the cheese.

_ “No, no, you’re doing it all wrong.” _

_ “Well, you’re not teaching me in a way that I can learn! There’s a bunch of intermediate steps that you don’t tell me about, and then you get mad when I can’t read your mind!” _

_ “Ugh, forget it. Just make scrambled.” _

_ “I--- we’re halfway through! I don’t wanna waste all our work.” _

_ “You burned the fucking hollandaise! It’s already wasted.” Theo tossed off his apron. “I’m eating somewhere else.” _

“ASHER, YOU’RE BLEEDING!”

“What?”

Asher’s spasms had begun again, and he’d sliced his finger open while daydreaming. Black sap, thicker than molasses, poured out of him. It smelled like blood and maple syrup. He gagged on the scent, the look of it, everything.

“Here, I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Before Asher could protest, Edge’s magic gently removed the knife from his hands, pressed his hands down to still them, and patched him up. He was very thorough, disinfecting the wound with immense care. As if anything would ever grow on Asher again.

“That should do it. Would you like to stop for now?”

_ “I’m eating somewhere else.” _

“N-no! I want to learn.” Asher winced, waiting for pushback. 

Instead, Edge gave him an impressed look. “Then let’s continue. You got some blood on the cheese, so you’ll have to start over. Do you think you can cut it without hurting yourself?”

Asher nodded, determined to keep his head in the present.

He kept having flickers of arguments in his mind, but he pushed them down and cut enough cheese off the block for every omelet.

“Excellent work. When your hands are not spasming, you have a very good touch for detail.”

Asher didn’t know what to say to that, so his head nodded, then shook. 

“The ham is pre-sliced at the deli counter where I shop, so you just need to lay it out so that it’s immediately accessible.”

“I can do that.” 

“That’s what I like to hear. Just don’t push yourself too hard.”

Asher’s twitching slowed down, and he was able to lay the ham out with no problems. Nice.

“Now! Do you think that you can cleanly crack some eggs?”

Asher shook his head. He didn’t want to get egg everywhere.

“Then I shall do this part, but there are handy devices that will crack an egg for you. I can purchase one for you in the future.”

Before Asher could protest, Edge moved right on. 

“Now, many home cooks do not know this, but you should add just a bit of water to your egg mixture. It will make them fluffier.”

“Really? That seems counterintuitive,” Asher was surprised.

“It does, but it works.” He handed the pitcher to Asher. Asher spilled a little bit of it, but got enough water into the bowl.

“Now, I am not sure you’re within capacity to whisk by hand, so here is an electric whisk. The lowest setting should be fine… whisk until your yolks and whites are completely blended.”

Asher nodded. It took focus to hold the electric whisk, but he managed to work it out fine.

“Wonderful. I have been preheating our pan at high heat. I use copper, but you should probably use nonstick for all of your needs. Grab the stick of butter and rub the tip all over the bottom of the pan until it is completely covered; take care not to burn yourself.”

Asher nodded. The butter hissed a little upon touching the pan, but he didn’t startle and held his hands steady.

“When the butter stops foaming, the pan is ready.”

The butter stopped foaming.

“Now, add the eggs, carefully.”

“I don’t think I should.”

“Then, I shall.” Edge added the eggs.

“Let the eggs sit for a while, then scramble the loose eggs over the set ones a bit.”

He did. 

“Now we can add toppings. I shall do this part.”

The ham and cheese was added.

“Now, we only need to flip one side, because the other will flip itself when we slide it onto the plate. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It had been fun, but painfully eye-opening. What used to be a task he could do in his sleep now required his full concentration and he couldn’t chop cheese right. He couldn’t even pour water right.

“What is wrong? We still have 2 more to go.”

“I--- I’m sorry…. I’ll just get in the way ...”

Edge gently took his hand.

“Asher. I said that I would teach you how to do this. Because I am prepared to teach you, as you are, how to best make an omelet. If you need my magic to steady your hands, or you need me to do some steps, I volunteered to do it, and I want to.”

Asher didn’t know how to respond to that.

Helping him as he was. 

An invalid.

Someone useless.

“Get out of your head and back to the kitchen, Ash,” Cinn grounded him, having teleported in.

Asher took a deep breath, and continued to make breakfast until everything was done. 

“.... Alright… it's done." The whole thing had worked him up into a light sweat. Cooking. Had made him sweat.

"Grub time, space cadet," Cinn gently nudged him and guided him to his seat.

It was the best omelet he's ever had in his life. Edge had used three eggs for him despite his insistence that one was enough, and he could see why.

Wait, why did Edge know that? Cinn had been around the hospital, so him overhearing wasn't out of the ordinary.

"How do you already know what to do? Every step I take, you seem ready to catch me. You have an abnormal amount of knowledge about such a rare condition."

Cinn sighed. "You're a sharp one, princey. I actually wanted to talk to ya about it. My--- our dad--- has the same condition. So we've been through the motions already."

"Except he wasn't nearly as appreciative of our help and swatted at us when we tried to touch him," Edge grumbled. "I thought I was short tempered and irritable, and then I met my father."

Asher swallowed. "Estranged family?"

"Well, he and many others we know we're hurtling through the VOID, so… yes. That's about as estranged as one can get," Edge chuckled.

"Wait, there are more? Then why did Dr. Dreemurr make it seem so rare?" He asked Cinn, confused.

"Well…. Uh…. It's not as… visible on 'em as it is on you. No offense. But they like to keep it under the rug. We try an' respect their wishes, but bro and I thought it was important this time."

"When did you two talk?"

"I woke Cinn earlier and we charled while you were canoodling."

Asher's face turns darker, yet darker.

"Nyeh heh heh, worry not! I was only teasing you a bit. Anyways, my brother expressed concerns about homelessness with me, and---"

"No. I won't be a burden to you or the Royal Family."

Cinn sighed. "Had a feelin' you would say that… so we came up with somethin' else."

"Our family recently bought a… vintage--"

"Derelict," Cinn interjected.

".... Homely, very small assisted living home, repurposed from a large old mansion."

Asher opened his mouth to protest, but Edge stopped him.

"Now, we do not intend on putting the place back in business. But our father, and his colleagues, as much as they'd never admit it, are finding living there, even on their own, to be far more accessible than living with us or in a regular apartment."

Cinn sighed. "They're going to work, and doin' a little better than when they were livin' with us and our cousins, but visiting is… a bit of a nightmare?" 

Edge nodded.

"Anyways, since we've noticed you despise taking something for nothing, our proposal is this: you may have a room and a study in the mansion, and your duty is to keep the house at least a little cleaner than when we last saw it… and try to keep our fathers from killing each other."

Asher paused. He'd just gotten out of a shitty roommate situation, and now they were offering him another, with a nebulous amount of roommates. But it was a mansion, not a one room studio apartment, and they were strangers, not the person who was supposed to be the love of his life.

Maybe he could make this work.

"I want to meet your cousins, make sure they're okay with it, then I want to see the grounds… and at least glimpse the people I would be living with."

"Heh, glimpse is pretty fuckin' accurate. Those guys are like mole rats. They stay in their lab if they're in a good mood, disperse to their studies once they start fightin', and occasionally remember to sleep."

"In the worst possible places, I might add. On the couch, under the couch, in the middle of the hall, in the bathroom… that is probably something you should be aware of as well."

Asher nodded.

"How soon can I meet your cousins and see the grounds? I don't want to keep infringing on your space."

"Hmm… I can ask and see if they can clear their schedules. Give me a moment.

  
  


LordEdgeLord: HELLO

LordEdgeLord: I WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY ANNOUNCE THAT, NO THANKS TO ANY OF YOU, I HAVE LOCATED WHAT I BELIEVE TO BE A SUITABLE TENANT

Nillawafer: you sure that's a good idea? 

the fight over the stolen k cups hasn't even been resolved yet

LordEdgeLord: LOOK, THERE WILL LITERALLY NEVER BE A 'GOOD TIME' FOR US TO INTRODUCE CHANGE INTO THAT HOUSE. THE TENANT IS UNDER DURESS AND I WOULD LIKE TO MOVE HIM IN QUICKLY.

Nillawafer: wait a sec

Nillawafer: is this the void accident victim? My answer's no.

LordEdgeLord: AND WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOUR ANSWER BE THE DECIDING ONE WHEN NO ONE ELSE IN THE CHAT HAS SAID ANYTHING

LordEdgeLord: WHAT WOULD PAPY SAY ABOUT YOU SPEAKING FOR HIM?

Nillawafer: you keep my little bro the fuck out of this. He doesn't need to know

PapayaSkeleton95: NEED TO KNOW ABOUT WHAT, SANS

Nillawafer: oh you piece of shit Edge

LordEdgeLord: YES. I'M TRYING TO FIND LODGING FOR A MAN WHO HAS NOTHING LEFT AND I'M THE PIECE OF SHIT.

PapayaSkeleton95: LOOK BOTH OF YOU STOP TYPING I'M READING THROUGH THE HISTORY

PapayaSkeleton95: OK I'M DONE READING

PapayaSkeleton95: YOU HAVE MY BLESSING EDGE

Nillawafer: wth paps?? You know throwing some decrepit beat up void victim into that house is just gonna make all of them feel worse

Nillawafer: the last thing we need is them getting paranoid and working harder towards a cure that doesn't exist

PapayaSkeleton95: SANS THEY WILL CONTINUE WORK ON THAT CONFOUNDED CURE NO MATTER WHAT WE DO

PapayaSkeleton95: YOU KNOW WE CANNOT HELP THEM

Nillawafer: that doesn't mean we have to make it worse

PapayaSkeleton95: WE CANNOT HELP OUR FATHERS. BUT WE CAN HELP THIS YOUNG MAN. HE'S STILL IN COLLEGE SANS, HE'S BARELY YOUNGER THAN I AM

PapayaSkeleton95: WHO KNOWS, MAYBE THIS NEW PERSON CAN ASSIST THEM IN WAYS THAT WE CANNOT

HoneyMcStickyBuns: sorry to interject but that's a lotta pressure to put on a guy who almost died. Just wanted to make that clear

PapayaSkeleton95: OH OF COURSE

I DID NOT MEAN TO INSINUATE THAT THEY WERE REQUIRED TO

HoneyMcStickyBuns: I dunno. I feel like that house is the worst place to recover. how would you feel if you were constantly surrounded by hateful old men who think you're nothing?

PapayaSkeleton95: I KNOW EXACTLY HOW THAT FEELS. I AM A LAWYER IN MY 20S SURROUNDED BY HUMANS THAT WANT TO SEE ME FAIL. I THINK YOU ARE MAKING A JUDGEMENT CALL THAT IS UP TO THE TENANT TO DECIDE FOR HIMSELF

HoneyMcStickyBuns: welp last thing I need is to get blamed for more trauma and shit going wrong so my vote's a no

L00dBerry: I VOTE YES! IF IT'S EITHER THAT OR THEM BEING ALL ALONE, THEN MAYBE OUR FATHERS WOULD BE BETTER COMPANY

HoneyMcStickyBuns: thought I told you to change your name

L00dBerry: SURE THING HoneyMcStickyBuns

Nillawafer: ok if you two are gonna keep fighting then you should log off and do it irl. We have other votes to collect

EDGE: SO FAR 3 YES AND 2 NO

Nillawafer: i counted 2

SinnamonRoll: yeah my vote's yes vanilla

Nillawafer: really Cinn? You know this is gonna end in disaster

SinnamonRoll: actually Nil, I don't

And neither do you, not really, so stop acting like you're fuckin smarter than everyone

Nillawafer: ok Cinn real convincing

SourGrapes333: MY VOTE IS MAYBE. I NEED TO MEET THEM FIRST.

Xxxprxo: agreed

Cortad0: I agree with my brothers.

Scampalicious: yes for me

Vionetta: MY FILTHY ASHTRAY BROTHER HAS SPOKEN WELL ENOUGH OF THIS PERSON THAT I WOULD LIKE TO CONCUR.

F1lmN0iR: MY BROTHER AND I SAY NO. NO ONE ELSE SHOULD HAVE TO PUT UP WITH OUR MANIPULATIVE BASTARD OF A FATHER

sMutty: yeah it's a no for me. Thanks m'Lord

LickmyIliacs: I'M ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE OUR FATHER BRANCHING OUT.

Rosieposa: yeah poor guy really needs a new playmate

LordEdgeLord: THAT IS IN NO WAY A PART OF HIS DUTIES AND I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TELLING HIM OTHERWISE YOU DEGENERATES

Rosieposa: are you as boring in bed as you are in this chat

_ Rosieposa was kicked for: 1 hour _

LordEdgeLord: ANYWAYS

KissMyAxe: typical of you to not even ask how we feel edgy

SugarSpiceandNice: NoW noW bRoTHER

I THinK it'S a LOVELy iDEA ESpeCIALLY FOR OUr FATHEr. He TeNDS TO selF ISOlatE JUst LiKE YOu!

KissMyAxe: my concern is the kid himself being isolated. that old man seems perfectly happy to spend the rest of eternity staring into space and hiding in his bed but this new guy might not be the same

My vote's a no

SugarSpiceandNice: YES FOR ME

LordEdgeLord: SO WE HAVE MOSTLY YESES AND A FEW MAYBES. WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO MEET THE YOUNG MAN FOR LUNCH OR DINNER

Nillawafer: fine. But it's gonna be at the mansion. He deserves to see what it's really like in there.

LordEdgeLord: YES WHATEVER

Edge looked up. "They want to meet today at dinner, in the manor."

“Jeez, already? That was fast.”

“Yeah, whenever Nilla doesn’t feel like draggin’ his fuckin’ feet.”

“SANS! It’s ‘dragging his  _ mother _ fucking feet.” Both brothers had a good chuckle at that. 

“Well…. I don’t have anything to wear. Besides what’s on me right now.”

Edge looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? That’s the easiest thing to fix ever. We’re going shopping!”

“Wh--what? I don’t have shopping money!“

“Well, the King and Queen do, and I’ve already texted them. They’re not taking no for an answer this time!”

Asher sighed deeply. Maybe shopping wouldn’t hurt, not this time.

“Alright. Let’s go shopping.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to reiterate that, yes, this is an OC fic, and no, you do not have to continue to read if this upsets you. I will even place it in the tags, so that there is no further confusion. If I have in some way let you down or disappointed you by writing this, I am sorry.


	8. Irritation Vanilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher and co. attempt to go to the home for lunch, but certain skeletons insist on dragging their heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like you guys deserved a little fluff after everything I've put you through so far. The actual lunch chapter should be out shortly; I just keep all my chapters between 5 and 7 pages and like consistency.  
> I should be putting up a Dreamwidth account soon to rejoin the community after the Tumblr diaspora, so stay tuned!

The shopping trip was a success. Asher rediscovered his love of cyberpunk, and he looked like an extra out of  _ Akira _ . After he and Cinn had lunch at the food court, much to Edge’s dismay, everyone piled into Edge’s Jaguar, and they were off.

“You both have such nice cars,” Asher marveled a bit.

“Don’t compare my brother’s hunk of junk to my marvel of nature!” Edge frowned a little.

“Listen ‘ere, that Pontiac took me an entire year to restore. I’d like to see ya try it,” Cinn smirked.

“That’s not fair! You know I’m not a tinkerer like you!” Edge protested.

“Then quit throwin’ shade at my baby. She’s perfect the way she is, save fer a little dust from this one,” he nudged Asher with his elbow.

“Oh, sorry,” Asher apologized; Cinn shook his head. “I’m just jokin’, princey. It’ll be alright. ‘S a memory, that’s for sure.”

A memory, huh…

“This may be a bit of a drive, so feel free to fall asleep,” Edge remarked, adjusting his mirrors a bit before driving off.

“You got it, bro.”

“I’m not talking to you! I need your help with the directions! The place doesn’t appear on my map apps, since it’s technically a closed business.”

“Yeah, alright. Make a left, then stay on 64 for about 10 miles.”

Asher slowly sunk into the Jaguar’s leather seats. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. The shopping trip had left him completely drained.

_ Asher was in the community garden; the sun was slowly coming up. Dew dotted all of the leaves, and the tulips were lazily opening, one petal at a time.  _

_ It was around the time to harvest the dandelions. Apparently humans treated them as pest plants, but they were quite a good food source, so his glen grew them. It was best to pick half while they were flowering and half afterwards.  _

_ As he reached out to them, they shrank away. Asher moved his hand closer, and the plants leaned further away. Frustrated, he reached out and snagged an apple off a tree. As he was about to put it in his mouth, he felt something wet and sticky in his palm. _

_ The apple was decomposing rapidly in his hand, until it melted into a viscous, black sludge. Asher turned to see where he’d walked; the grass was dead in every area where he’d stepped. _

_ “Samara! You’re ruining everything!” His mother shouted, her hands in her hair.  _

_ “Mom! I’m sorry! I----” The rot spread faster and faster, crawling up his mother’s roots.  _

_ “You ruin everything, Samara. Everything.” Her flesh rots, and her teeth fall out one by one.  _

Asher screamed himself awake.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Edge pulled over hard, turning off the ignition. “WHAT’S HAPPENING?” His eyelights glowed intensely, and the magic of battle brewed in the air.

“I’m sorry, mom… sorry….” Asher mumbled. He was awake. It was over.

“I shoulda fuckin’ warned him about the nightmares, Boss. It was my fault.”

“No, I could have done so as well.”

Asher shook his head. “Don’t worry… I can’t remember the last good dream I had. They’ve just never been that bad.”

“Yeah… our dad never talks about his. Makes sense, though, since he doesn’t fuckin’ talk about anythin’.”

“Hmph, it is frustrating. I can tell that it’s bothering him. He has the same microexpressions as I do when I’m upset. But he just shoves it all down and acts like an asshole. That’s going to blow up in his face some day.. I hope I’m not around for that,” Edge sighed.

“So… we almost there? Sorry for scaring you.”

Edge restarted the car, and they were off. They were pretty out of the city; the interstate was mottled with wildflowers and tall grass. Large houses with acres of property made up most of the landscape.

“Yes, just one more turn off this exit and it’s the first place on the left.” They rounded the hill next to the exit and…

Jesus Christ. The house was an absolute horrorshow. It looked like the kind of place that a church would run a haunted house in to raise money for charity. How it hadn’t been condemned or demolished was beyond Asher. The shutters were slowly sliding off their windows. Some windows were missing panes altogether, covered by plywood instead. The parking lot was full of luxury cars and retrofitted antique vehicles. 

“This is… a little worse than I expected, Edge.”

“I know it looks a bit haunted on the outside, but that’s simply because they don’t feel like fixing it. The inside is a lot nicer,” The captain assured him as they pulled into the lot.

He checked his phone. Goddamn it, a whole bunch of them had dipped out of lunch. Including Vanilla. 

Fuming, Edge smiled at Asher. “Excuse me for one moment, Asher.”

“Easy, bro.”

“NO! THEY SAID THEY WERE COMING! WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE TAKING RESPONSIBILITY?”

Edge basically slammed his fingers into the keypad as he dialed someone Asher didn’t know.

“VANILLA! WHAT THE FUCK GIVES?!” 

“What can I say? Not interested.” Looks like Edge hit the speaker button in his hurry. 

“YOU COULD APOLOGIZE!”

“I’m not the one doing something wrong. You’re introducing some decomposing rando into a house of already half-functional skeletons. And now the queen wants to throw in that psycho? Count me the fuck out.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT PSYCHO.” Edge’s eyelights went out.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? He just got released from prison, and that’s what Fafriel wants to do with him. You should probably make peace with your old man before he’s wiped off the face of the earth.”

“RIGHT. AS IF YOUR FATHER IS GOING TO LEAVE HIS HOME JUST BECAUSE OF TWO NEW PEOPLE. NOT EVERYONE THROWS IN THE TOWEL WHENEVER THEY FACE ANY LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY, SANS.”

The line went quiet.

“If I have to drag my dad out of that building by force, I will. I’m not losin’ him after just getting him back.”

“OH, YOU’RE GONNA DRAG HIM OUT? HE’LL JUST TELEPORT BACK. OUR FATHERS ARE EVEN BETTER AT TAKING ON CHALLENGES THAN YOU ARE AT RUNNING AWAY FROM THEM. GOOD DAY, SANS,” Edge hung up with a wicked grin.

“Who was that?” Asher asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Vanilla. Cinn’s Tale Kingdom counterpart. We’ve both been on the Surface for the same amount of time and he hasn’t evolved or matured one bit in that time. I for one, am proud of all the progress my brother has made. Vanilla and Honey just seem to go backwards, frankly. I feel sorry for Papaya and Azure.”

“There’s no need to feel sorry for me, Edge! Sans is just going through a rough patch!” A skeleton in a suit jacket, leather elbow patches and plaid orange dress pants put his hand on Edge’s shoulder.

“NYAAAGH! DON’T DO THAT, PAPY!”

“See? You don’t like it when you’re talked about  _ behind your back _ , do you?” the other chuckled. “Don’t worry! I would have dragged Sans by the ear here if I had to. Brother, come out of the car!” 

A dark blue-eyed skeleton skulked out of his brother’s Ferrari.

“Coming.”

“Hello, little dryad! My name is Papaya Aster, Esquire. It is truly an honor to meet you!” He seemed so excited he could barely contain himself, pulling out a fidget spinner to burn off the extra energy.

“Go on, Papaya. It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Edge clapped him on the back.

“A-ARE YOU A HUGGER? E-excuse me, I tend to be a little too clingy sometimes!” Papaya smiled apologetically.

“Oh? Sure. Haven’t been hugged too often, but I like trying new things, hahaha.”

Papaya scooped Asher up and spun him around, before setting him down carefully, making sure he landed properly.

“Jeez. Can’t say I’ve ever been hugged with quite so much enthusiasm. Thank you, Papaya.”

“It’s no issue! If you’re ever wanting a hug, I am always ready to give!”

“Yeah, and that’s just the issue,” his brother muttered. That must be Vanilla.

“Nice to meet you,” Asher smiled, offering a hand.

Vanilla takes it. The others seemed to have expected something to happen, since they were all cringing. But nothing happened.

“Nilla’s the name. I’m one of your landlords, I guess.”

“Right,” Asher swallowed. 

“Is anyone else planning on showing up?” Edge sighed, pinching his nasal bridge.

“I believe Azure is coming in. Honey’s… a little impaired at the moment.”

“You can say  _ drunk _ , Papy,” Edge spat.

“I don’t want to make a bad impression!” Papyrus responded. They weren’t upset, not with each other, at least.

“Considering the unpleasantness that was the phone call with your brother, I think that we can drop all pretenses.”

A car braked hard in the parking lot. A pair of heels stuck out of the door, as well as… a riding crop?

“ESPRESSO! CORTADO! GET OUT OF THE CAR, THE TENANT IS ALREADY HERE!” He shouted, a curt rasp in his voice.Two thumbs up popped out of the windows, before two long, yellow eyed skeletons stepped out of the car. The one yelling stepped out last, needing assistance from one of his brothers to get down from their enormous Lexus GX.

The smaller seemed to be in charge, the other two trailing behind him. One of them was hunched as he walked, his hoodie dipping just a little over his eyes. Headphones sat squarely on his shoulders. The other was much dressed like his brother, walking straight, in a rather futuristic black trench. 

“ESPRESSO! PICK UP THE SLACK! WE ONLY HAVE A LIMITED AMOUNT OF TIME TO ASSESS THE TENANT BEFORE YOUR THERAPY SESSION!”

The hunched one nodded, running a little to catch up with his brothers.

The two militant ones squinted at Asher hard.

“CORTADO. HIS STATS.”

Wait, Asher’s stats?! What the hell did they need those for? Were they about to fight him or something?

“Illegible. Nothing but VOID-garbled gibberish, Captain.”

“THEN GIVE ME AN ESTIMATE!”

“Uh… do I need to do something here?” Asher asked Edge. 

“No. This is just… their routine. Riesling, do you intend on wasting all of lunch staring at our tenant, or will you introduce yourself like a normal person?”

“THIS IS PERFECTLY NORMAL! CORTADO, I GROW IMPATIENT.”

“DEF 50. ATK 30. HP 30/30. Soul of Justice.”

“PATHETIC! A COMPLETE AND UTTER WEAKLING! GOOD. YOU ARE OF NO THREAT TO OUR FATHER AND MAY PROCEED.”

“Al...right?” Asher wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. Maybe a little bit of both. He wasn’t a complete weakling, right?

“WE MUST WAIT FOR THE LONE COMMANDER, AS WELL AS OUR COUSIN AND HIS PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A COMPANY,” Riesling sighed.

“You know Scamp and Sliv are always late. Let’s just go inside and get this over with,” Nilla sighed deeper. Cinn gritted his teeth.

“You’se guys go on ahead. I’m gonna need a moment.”

“Fine,” Edge nodded. “Asher, would you mind staying for a moment with my brother? I would like to make sure our fathers aren’t doing anything abnormally dangerous, and set up a bit, before you enter.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

Everyone except Cinn and Asher went into the house. The door practically screeched whenever it was open and shut.

Cinn pulled out a cigar and sat on the hood of the Jaguar. “Y’ want one?”

“I can’t smoke. It’s really bad for plants. Even though I’m more rot than plant, I still don’t want to risk it,” Asher declined.

“Suit yaself.” He snapped his fingers and the tip of the cigar lit up. So he knew a little fire magic…

“.... So that was… a lot. Are you all related? Or what’s the story?”

“We’re all counterparts. It gets kinda messy. Our names started out as nicknames, but eventually we had ‘em all legally changed. Got sick of gettin’ ‘calls for Sans and Papyrus’. How was we supposed to know which pair people wanted?!” He chuckled a bit.

“But, yeah… I’m sorry yer havin’ to go through all this. I’d hoped this would be a little easier than you livin’ on yer own, but all I’ve done is complicate the shit outta your life. This one’s on me, princey.”

Asher shook his head.

“You know, it’s at least been different. I got so used to my routines with Theo that I kind of forgot what life was like outside of that. Sure, not everything’s fun, and certainly not Vanilla, but it’s been different, and in that sense, refreshing. It helps me keep my mind off… this,” he smiled, gesturing to his broken body.

“Yeah. That’s what velcro shoes an’ jackets are for. Ya look right outta Blade Runner.”

Asher’s smile grew a little bigger. “I have mixed feelings about that film, but the aesthetic is top notch.”

“Yeah…” Cinn drew in a big puff, before blowing it out in the shape of a heart. “Hehehe, I still got it.”

“Can you blow it out your eyes?” Asher had to ask.

“Hell no! Shit burns like a motherfucker. Who showed ya that?” Cinn shuddered.

“Me. Nyeh heh, didn’t mean to set the bar too high for ya, shorty,” Scamp popped in and noogied Cinn mid inhale, giving him a coughing fit and stealing his cigar.

“You sack of fuckin’ shit, you planned that!” Cinn growled. Asher could kind of tell they were playing around.

“Brother. Please. We arrived with a duty, and we must perform it.”

“DON’T TREAT IT LIKE A DUTY, TREAT IT LIKE AN ADVENTURE! WE GET TO MEET A NEW FRIEND! HOPEFULLY CRIMSON WON’T INSULT THEM SO MUCH THAT THEY LEAVE CRYING THIS TIME!” It was odd. The two voices sounded like they were from the same person, yet one of them was heavy and flat, and the other was bouncing off the walls. Eventually, Asher was able to see the two skeletons talking. They had showed up in a sporty motorbike and sidecar, removing their helmets before coming to say hello.

“Nyeh heh, you Blue’s  _ side _ piece now?” Scamp joked with the quieter one. The two motorcyclists looked almost inverted. The quieter one with muted purple eyelights robotically shook Asher’s hand, before the bright-eyed one grabbed Asher’s other hand and shook it vigorously.

“HELLO! I DON’T BELIEVE WE’VE MET! MY NAME IS AZURE ASTER, AND THIS IS MY FRIEND, SLIVOVITZ ASTER!”

“Yeah, here’s my big bro. Well, big metaphorically.”

“Hardee har har. Because I’m short. Very original, brother,” Slivovitz sighed. “I would at least like to supervise Edge making the food, even if he will no longer let me assist.”

“MAYBE IF WE’RE LUCKY WE CAN SNEAK MAKING A FEW SIDE DISHES. COME ON, SLIV!” Azure grabbed Sliv’s hand and basically Naruto ran to the door.

“Well, princey, whatcha see is whatcha get. You still wanna go in that house?” Cinn checked. “Y’ can say no. I’d fuckin’ say no.”

Asher shook his head. “I’m ready. I want to give this a try.” 

Without realizing it, Asher took Cinn’s hand, and they walked inside. It was lunchtime.


	9. The Three Landlords of the Apocalypse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher is put through the three guard Sanses's blatantly illegal tenant interview process.  
> This chapter has some NSFW words in it, but no sexual acts.

As Asher entered, the militant looking Sanses dispelled their huddle, watching him intently. 

"Hey, uh, what's with the Children of the Corn act there? Mind tellin' us what you were doing?" Cinn joked.

Sliv's muted eyelights rolled a little.

"Well, we were talking about the rigorous testing that we wanted to conduct, just to be sure that you're the right tenant for the building."

"AS WE WERE DISCUSSING IT, WE REALIZED THAT DEALING WITH ALL OF OUR CHALLENGES AT ONCE WOULD BE A LITTLE OVERWHELMING, ESPECIALLY SINCE WE LOOK SO MUCH ALIKE!" Azure continued.

"So instead of supervising Edge while he makes lunch, my comrades and I have decided to conduct interviews with you individually!" Riesling stood at attention and explained. "Are we making ourselves clear?"

Asher nodded, more than a little confused.

"DON'T WORRY, TENANT! THIS WILL PROBABLY GET EASIER TO PROCESS WHEN WE AREN'T ALL IN THE SAME SPACE AT ONCE! WHICH IS WHY MY INTERVIEW WILL BE TAKING PLACE OUTSIDE IN THE GARDENS! FOLLOW ME!" He was about to dash off, then remembered the cane and slowed down. 

"After you're done, send him to the parlor, Azure," Sliv called after them. His voice was a bit flat, but it seemed to carry as far as he needed.

"RIGHT! I THINK YOU'RE GONNA LOVE THE GARDENS. THERE ARE THESE WILD APPLES THAT GR---"

"I'd rather not go to the garden," Asher interrupted, stopping.

"OH? BUT I THOUGHT YOU--- OH NO… I'M SO SORRY, TENANT."

"Yeah… I kill every plant I touch for longer than a couple of seconds. You should keep me away from your apple tree."

"... WOULD YOU PREFER TO INTERVIEW IN THE LIBRARY THEN?" Azure chirped. "ALL THE TREES IN THERE ARE ALREADY DEAD!"

He paused, an odd look on his face. "THAT SOUNDED A LOT MORE MORBID THAN I MEANT IT TO. I APOLOGIZE."

Asher shook his head. "No, that was pretty funny. I appreciate it."

Another strange look from the blue eyed skeleton, before he helped Asher into the library.

“I’M SORRY TO SAY, BUT MY INTERVIEW WILL PROBABLY BE THE MOST BORING. HOPEFULLY IT WON’T PUT YOU TO SLEEP,” Azure smiled gently. 

Asher chuckled. “It wouldn’t be your fault. Just about anything puts me to sleep now.”

“WELL, I’M JUST GONNA COVER THE BASICS,” Azure continued, pulling out a beat up Rite-In-the-Rain notebook and reviewing his notes.

“ARE YOU CURRENTLY RENTING? IF SO, WHERE?”

“Over on 32nd and 25th. Riverside Rentals.”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU LIVED THERE?”

“About 5 years now. All through college. I couldn’t afford a dorm.”

“WHY DO YOU WANT TO LIVE HERE?”

Asher paused. “Cinn said I might be able to do better here than where I was, with my new limitations. I’m also interested in meeting other VOID survivors. It’d be nice to have some friends.”

Azure winced on the word ‘friends’. “HOW SOON WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO MOVE IN?”

“Well, considering all of my possessions were stolen, pretty much right away,” Asher chuckled.

“WAIT, HOLD ON. ALL OF YOUR POSSESSIONS WERE STOLEN? BY WHO? HAVE YOU CALLED THE ROYAL GUARD?”

“Well, I’m a glen monster, not an Undergrounder, so I don’t even know if the Royal Guard has the jurisdiction to help me. I also… really don’t want to see the perpetrator again. Most of the stuff he took isn’t worth that to me.”

“THE ROYAL GUARD’S JURISDICTION IS ALL MONSTERS. I WANT TO SEE IF I CAN GET THAT SORTED FOR YOU. BUT RIGHT NOW, WE NEED TO MOVE ON.”

Asher let out a sigh of relief. 

“WHAT WAS YOUR PREVIOUS JOB? WE ARE LOOKING FOR A TENANT THAT CAN HELP TO UPKEEP THE PROPERTY, WITHIN REASON.”

“I was a night-shift janitor at the Fell Science Building for Ebott University. I was cleaning the collider when the accident happened.”

“AROUND HOW MUCH DID YOU MAKE? I’M SORRY; YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT TO ANSWER ALL THESE PERSONAL QUESTIONS. YOU ARE WITHIN YOUR LEGAL RIGHTS TO DECLINE TO ANSWER ANYTHING I ASK.”

“Maybe around $12 an hour? Mostly because no student wanted to do the job I did. I can see why now.”

“I ASSUME YOU WOULD NOT BE BRINGING ANY ROOMMATES.”

“Hell no.”

“DO YOU SMOKE?”

Asher shook his head. 

“HOW MUCH WOULD YOU MIND IF AT LEAST ONE OF YOUR HOUSEMATES SMOKED?”

“As long as they don’t do it in common areas or near me, I’d be fine.”

“GOOD,” Azure tutted, writing it all down.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?”

“I used to have a cat… his name was Pooferton. My ex-roommate lost him a couple of months ago, and I don’t really think he tried all that hard to find him.”

Azure almost dropped his notebook.

“WAIT! DID YOU SAY POOFERTON?”

“Yeah…”

Azure was practically vibrating with excitement. “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

Off he went, leaving Azure kind of confused.

“LU! BRING NEWTON! I THINK I FOUND HIS OWNER!”

Asher sat up. If he wasn’t awake before, he was now. Did they really have his cat? There was no one he wanted to see more right now.

“Mrrraow.” Yep, that was his meow. 

Azure practically dashed into the library, almost bowling over a shelf. A tall, white-eyed skeleton with holes in his hands elegantly walked in afterwards. In his arms was a very well-groomed Pooferton. 

“Baby! Poofyton!” Asher cried, tears pricking his eyes. Pooferton hopped out of the taller skeleton’s arms and immediately headbutted him.

“Ow! You could be a little gentler when asking for kisses,” He chided the cat, before smooching all over his head. Pooferton purred loudly.

“So that’s what he wanted when he was doing that. What an odd behavior for a cat,” The skeleton who brought him in remarked.

“Yeah, Pooferton’s a freak of nature. Heh… we’re about the same now.” 

The skeleton frowned for a moment, before shaking his head. “My name is Cerulean Aster. I am one of the people who lives here full time.” He offered his hand for Asher to shake.

As soon as Asher took it, he felt something soft and silky in the other’s sleeve. He gave it a curious tug, and a long strand of tied-together satin napkins came out. 

“Well, would you look at that! So that’s where all my kerchiefs went,” Cerulean snickered and giggled. Asher couldn’t help but laugh along. It was such a basic magic trick, but he hadn’t expected it at all from such a serious looking monster.

“I apologize. That was rather immature of me, but I enjoy practicing what the humans used to call ‘magic’ in my free time.”

“Don’t apologize for your hobbies. I really needed that,” Asher responded. Pooferton started playing with the kerchiefs. Cerulean swished it around a bit, and the cat gave chase. 

“Well, I do need to get back to my actual studies, but I am glad you have been reunited with your cat. I will miss him…”

“WELL, IF HE STAYS, SO WOULD POOFERTON. SO YOU NEVER KNOW!” Azure reassured the taller. He nodded. “Very well. There is no pressure to accept; some of us are more difficult than others. Have a lovely evening, Mr….”

“Asher.”

“Asher. That is an elegant name.” Cerulean bowed, before seeing himself out.

“Jeez. I’ve only seen people that gentlemanly in old Hollywood films.”

“YEAH, LU TENDS TO LAY IT ON PRETTY THICK… WOULD YOU LIKE TO TAKE A BREAK, OR CONTINUE THE INTERVIEW?”

“I’d like to continue.”

Pooferton exposed his tummy, rumbling as Asher rubbed it.

“HAVE YOU EVER BEEN EVICTED?”

“No, but I might be about to be. I can’t afford the rent without my ex contributing.”

“WELL, HOPEFULLY WE CAN HELP YOU OUT A BIT WITH THAT. DO YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS FOR ME?”

Asher shook his head.

“NOW THEN, BEFORE YOU GO, I SHOULD PROBABLY WARN YOU… SLIV AND RIESLING CAN BE A LITTLE, ER, INTENSE WITH THEIR CANDIDACY PROCESSING. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING THEY ASK YOU TO DO, NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY INSIST, OKAY?”

“Uh… okay,” Asher nodded. “Which way is the parlor?”

“STRAIGHT, THEN THE SECOND OPEN SPACE ON THE LEFT. GOOD LUCK, ASHER!”

“Thank you, Azure,” Asher smiled, before heading in that direction. Pooferton chose to stay behind and play with the kerchiefs some more.

Slivovitz was waiting for him, drinking out of a very nice teacup.

“Ah. Asher. I believe that’s what my brother was calling you. Besides ‘the tits’.”

That made him crack a grin. Slivovitz did his best to smile back.

“It seems that you did well in Azure’s part of the interview, not that his is particularly challenging. Even so, congratulations. On the rare occasion that someone fails his part of the interview, they get sent home.”

“So you guys have been looking for someone for a while.”

“Just about. We had to deliberate on whether we wanted to run our usual interview process, since it tends to drive away potential tenants, particularly the faint of heart.”

“Well, if I was faint of heart before, I think I’ve been through enough to get over it,” Asher tried to reassure. Sliv just scoffed.

“Sure. Anyways… please have something to drink, and let’s begin.” He offered him a teapot. It was cold. Asher tipped it into his pot, and straight booze came out. He decided to leave his cup on the table.

“Why did you break up with your ex?”

Asher was glad that he hadn’t drank anything, because he would have spit it out on that question.

“E-excuse me? You’re not allowed to ask that!”

“I am allowed to ask; you’re just not required to answer. And I’m not required to agree to rent the place to you, if you catch my meaning. I assure you, these questions now will save you a lot of heartbreak later.”

Asher sighed and took his first sip. It was some sort of plum wine. Delicious.

“We just kind of grew apart. He had expectations of me that I couldn’t meet, and we had different interests long term.”

“Anything else?”

“He also cheated on me and stole all of my stuff, if that helps,” Asher snorted.

“That would do it,” Sliv sighed. “How do you feel about minor objects being borrowed or stolen from you without permission?”

Asher sat up. “How minor are we talking?”

“Say, some K-Cups from a Keurig.”

“I mean, that’s not too big a deal. We could probably just start a communal deposit anyway. We all chip in money and the cups can be for everyone.”

Asher couldn’t tell if that was a smirk or a smile on Sliv’s face.

“How do you feel about your appliances being taken apart at random times, assuming that they are always put back together correctly?”

“Well, that depends. If it’s my computer right before a major exam is due, I’d be frustrated. But if it’s something like my alarm clock, that’d be fine. I’d obviously prefer people ask.”

“Would it anger you if your umbrellas were stolen or scattered throughout the house?”

Umbrellas, plural?

“Nothing serious. If we’re borrowing each other’s umbrellas, we might as well have a basket of them so that no one gets caught in the rain.”

Sliv continued, serving him more wine.

“Do you top or bottom in bed?”

Asher almost dropped his cup. “H-how is that relevant?!” These questions were getting really weird.

“You don’t have to answer that one, myeh heh heh. I was simply teasing you.”

It didn’t feel like a joke. It was probably Sliv’s dry delivery that made him sound like he meant it. 

“I’m a b-bottom, if you must know.”

“I mustn’t, but thank you for your input.”

Bastard was joking. Asher felt like an idiot for actually answering.

“How do you feel about big personalities?”

“As long as they don’t cross me, I’m fine. And even then, I try to avoid conflict.”

“Hm. Would you consider yourself a doormat?” Sliv pressed on.

“Uh… occasionally, I let things go that would make a normal person really upset. But I try to stand my ground on things I find really important.”

Sliv nodded, before standing up and shaking Asher’s hand.

“Congratulations! You have met all of my standards. You may proceed to the last part. This will be outside, on the lawn.”

On the lawn? What was Riesling gonna have him do, the PACER test?

As soon as he went outside, his jaw dropped.

An entire obstacle course had been set up, including flamethrowers, a gauntlet, and more. The only saving grace was that the moat had inflatable sharks inside instead of the real deal.

“Welcome, tenant! Complete my course, and you will have earned your place at the Aster manor!” Riesling smacked the riding crop into his hand, a massive grin on his face. His two brothers flanked him, both watching Asher intently.

Asher took a look at his cane, then the course, then his cane again. 

_ “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING THEY ASK YOU TO DO, NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY INSIST, OKAY?” _

_ “Would you consider yourself a doormat?” _

Oh.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Riesling’s grin dropped. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean what no means. And that’s no. Do I fucking look like I can complete a course like this? I almost got sucked into the VOID yesterday, and this is how you’re going to try and assess me? Forget it. I’ll look somewhere else.”

The three skeletons were quiet, Riesling’s expression unreadable. Asher was starting to get nervous. Had his gamble paid off? 

Suddenly, Azure and Sliv jumped out of the bushes, almost giving Asher a heart attack. Well, Azure jumped… Sliv just kind of stood up and made some weak jazz hands.

“CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE THE FIRST… AND ONLY PERSON TO HAVE EVER PASSED OUR RIGOROUS EXAMINATION PUZZLE!” Azure celebrated, throwing glitter in the air. “I’M SO GLAD THAT YOU GET TO STAY! I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU THE WHOLE TIME!”

“Yes. Based on the questions that we have asked you, it has been determined that you have the right temperament for dealing with our fathers effectively, without bending to all their demands or picking too many fights,” Sliv added, trying to ease Asher’s confusion. 

“As for your belongings, my brothers and I will be…  _ inquiring  _ about it soon, so please do not fret over it. Justice will be served, one way or another,” Riesling cackled a bit. Espresso gulped; Cortado cracked a tiny smile.

“Are you three gargoyles done tormenting our tenant? The lasagna will get cold,” Edge tapped his feet impatiently. Asher had never been so relieved to see any monster in his life.

“Jesus, you lot really put the lil’ sapling through the ringer. You’se are lucky I like ya,” Cinn added, standing protectively next to Asher.

“YOU KNOW WE ONLY DO ALL OF THIS SO THAT THE PERSON WHO MOVES IN WILL GET ON WELL WITH OUR FATHERS. IF HE THOUGHT WE WERE BEING DIFFICULT, IMAGINE WHEN HE MEETS OUR DADS!”

“You’re going to scare him off! Come along, Asher. These three imps of Hell will be  _ behaving properly once we reach the dining table _ ,” He glared pointedly. Asher could tell it wasn’t serious.

“Sir, yes sir!” The three replied, before running back inside. Cinn and Edge walked with Asher, asking him questions about his interview and whether he was okay. 

Asher answered, but his mind was wandering somewhere else. 

If Riesling, Sliv and Azure had been that intense… what kinds of men, exactly, were their fathers?


	10. A Forked Up Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher gets to have lunch with the Asters!  
> .... It's not nearly as fun as you might think.

After completing their tests, the three scarved skeletons took off, likely to try and help with the tail end of lunch. Cinn followed in after his brother; there was no one around. 

It was a nice respite. He took a seat in the overgrown garden. It saddened him a bit, but as long as he didn’t try to plant anything, he should be fine.

Maybe this was a good time to try something he’d never been able to do.

He pulled a couple of incense sticks from his pockets: one rose, one vanilla, one frankincense. He tossed the frankincense one into the grass without lighting it. He never wanted to smell that shit again. The vanilla one wasn’t particularly promising either, considering how unpleasant the person who had it as their namesake was. Rose would have to do it.

He lit the end, and took a deep inhale. The scent of flowers was instantly calming, and his new body seemed to rather agree with the dark grey fumes. Maybe something good had come of this fucking disaster after all. One good thing, and that was that he could smoke incense like his ex used to.

The incense had no addictive properties. It was just a way to calm down, and Asher had envied his ex when he did it. He blew out a puff of scented smoke, trying to decompress from what he’d just had to go through.

“Mind if we join ya?” Scamp walked up to him, Espresso following behind.

“I don’t have any more sticks,” Asher replied.

“We brought our own,” Scamp chuckled. “Never doubt I don’t have some kind of vice on my person, nyeh heh heh.”

Espresso nyeh-heh-heh’d a little bit as well. His voice was quieter, and raspy, but from disuse instead of chainsmoking.

“I wouldn’t consider this a vice. It’s not addicting. Just… don’t burn frankincense near me, please.”

“‘S that what that bastard smelled like? Heh, don’t worry. That’s my least favorite flavor besides eucalyptus.”

“Yuck,” Espresso agreed. “Tastes like medicine.”

“Right? It’s like smoking Vicks Vapor Rub,” Asher chuckled. “I hated when Theo smoked eucalyptus. The whole house smelled like some kind of hospital. And I’ve about had it with hospitals for a while.”

That sobered the other two, and they took their next inhales in silence. The warblers sang loudly in the trees, and wind rustled through the leaves. There was a melancholy to the sound that Asher hadn’t felt before, and before he knew it, he was crying, clutching himself in the chair.

“Woah, easy, li’l sapling, what’s wrong?” Scamp stood up and walked to him.

“It’s the outdoors….” Espresso noted, right on point. 

Asher wanted to respond, but the sobs were too deep for him to speak.

“Here, let’s both pick him up, get him to the living room, and find someone a little more emotionally available to help,” Scamp directed. Both skeletons carried Asher between them. He wanted to say he didn’t need help, that he would be fine in a couple of minutes, but he didn’t know if that was true. 

The wind rustled through his hair like dry wheat, and the summer sunlight felt like nothing on his skin. 

He was a husk, just like the wilted, brown tomato plant by the window.

Asher felt something soft touch him; Espresso was busy wrapping him in blankets, a serious look on his face. He hadn’t noticed that Espresso had braces before. Scamp scooped up Pooferton and placed him on Asher’s lap, where he immediately displayed his tummy. He used to do that right after Asher and Theo had a fight; it was probably the reason the fire elemental resented the cat so much.

“I’m g-gonna go make tea. Stay with him, please,” Espresso walked out. 

“Wait, I’m no good for----” Scamp called after him, but Espresso had already teleported. He sighed, incense still in his mouth.

“.... you probably don’t wanna be touched by someone like me, so I’m just gonna stay right here next to ya until someone better comes along.”

Asher shook his head.

“You’re fine.”

“Wh….what?” Scamp asked quietly, genuinely surprised.

“You’re okay. You can touch me if you want to…. A pat on the back would really help.”

“I’m… kinda filthy though.”

Asher shrugged. “So am I. We’re both gross, so neither of us are.”

“Nyeh heh, no one’s ever said it like that,” Scamp sighed. “More incense?”

“Yeah.”

Scamp lit the stick for him; it was a flavor he didn’t recognize.

“Whatsh thish?” He asked with the stick between his teeth.

“Uh, dragon’s blood. Figured any plant flavored stuff wouldn’t help.”

“You know dragon’s blood is a type of plant resin, right?”

“Shit, I--”

“It’s okay. This is a good flavor. I’ve never had it… you should try some if you haven’t already.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Scamp shrugged, lighting one for himself.

“Why are you smoking indoors? You know how much our fathers hate that sort of thing,” Sliv asked, somehow managing to march in without making a sound.

“‘S not cigarettes. It’s incense. They’ll be fine.”

Sliv sighed. “May I have one? Riesling and Azure are… a little too intense for me right now.”

Scamp lit one for his brother.

“Thanks, little bro,” Sliv smiled. There was a watered down quality to his smiles; everything about him seemed deflated, grey.

“No problem.”

“.... did you have a breakdown, Asher?” Sliv asked after a bit.

“How did you---”

“I have them myself relatively often. So do the other residents; they just hide it. So I can recognize the aftermath of one when I see one.”

Asher nodded. Something about Sliv and Scamp was deeply calming, and he wanted them to stay.

“I think lunch will be ready soon, so we should take a moment of solace while we can,” Sliv sighed out smoke.

“Hm,” Scamp nodded.

“Asher? What are you doing down there?” Edge asked, walking in. He was wringing his hands.

“Breakdown,” Sliv explained so that Asher didn’t have to.

“Oh…. it wasn’t… violent, was it?” Edge asked. Scamp shook his head.

“.... this is a once in a lifetime opportunity I am about to offer you, Asher, so please consider it well. If you would like…. I can carry you to the table. I don’t want you to have to worry about balancing on your cane while you’re recovering from those kinds of emotions.”

Asher just nodded, feeling nonverbal.

With no effort, Edge scooped him up, bridal style. Asher hadn’t meant to, but he leaned his head on Edge’s chest as he was carried to the dining room. He was set down with the utmost care, still wrapped in a blanket.

Nilla sighed.

“He’s getting breakdowns already. This is why he shouldn’t be here.”

“Brother!” Papaya protested.

“He’s not gonna get better here. He’s gonna get worse. They all make each other worse,” Nilla gestured towards the rooms on the other side of the house.

“Well, perhaps not all of us like to throw in the towel and hide in bed when things get hard,” Cinn muttered. Nilla’s grip around his fork tightened.

“Brother, please. Let’s just try to have a nice family lunch… with whatever parts of our family decide to show their faces. How did you fare with Father?” Edge changed the subject.

“Same shit. ‘I’m about to make a breakthrough, no one else will work on the cure, I’m the only one smart enough to do this, I don’t have time to eat,’ yadda yadda yadda.” 

Edge wilted a little. “I’ll see if I can get him to come out. Cerulean, do you know who is where, at least a little?”

The blue eyed scientist nodded. “Let’s see… Bisque and Beige are probably resting, Clemm is working, Hart is checking his inventory, Verdant is off whoring and drinking again, Mauve is at a psychology conference, and Crimm is self-martyring in his room.”

“I’ll take food to Bisque and Beige,” Nilla excused himself. 

“Yeah, mopers attract mopers, huh?” Cinn taunted. Nilla put his plate down a little too hard.

“Our father doesn’t mope. He’s just contemplating what to do next,” Cortado quipped. It was the first time Asher had heard him speak. Riesling was shaking a bit.

“Yeah, contemplatin’ whether he’s gonna take a sixteen or twenty hour nap,” Cinn continued. 

Riesling slammed his fist on the table.

“Our father has been through a lot, and I do not need to sit here and listen to you berate him when he has done nothing to you!” 

“That’s the fuckin’ point! He hasn’t done nothin’! Neither does that Vanilla bastard!”

“Please don’t call my brother a bastard.”

“My point stands! We’re out here workin’ our asses off, trying to hold everythin’ together, and Reezy’s dad can’t be arsed to even join us for lunch!”

“Who can’t be arsed to join you for lunch?”

Cinn’s scowl dropped. “... how gracious of you’se to join us, Bisque.”

The skeleton’s golden eyes seemed tarnished, and he sat down without even defending himself. Riesling got up and helped him into his chair.

“How have you been, father? I am sorry I have been unable to see you as much as I would like.”

“It’s ups and downs,” Bisque nodded, declining to say more. Espresso seemed like he wanted to say or ask something, but he shrunk back into his hoodie.

There’s a clack, clack, clack, of sharp dress shoes coming from the hall, keeping time with Edge’s high heeled boots. 

“You, and you,” Crimm glared at Cinn, “Are interrupting important research.”

“Yeah, nice to see you too, pops.”

Crimm’s scowl lessened just a little bit when he saw Asher at the other end of the table. 

“Ah. The accident survivor… didn’t I tell you to not go into my office right before you got injured?”

“Yep, and it seems like you’re just as welcoming at home as you are back at school,” Asher joked. Crimson actually snorted a bit.

“So, your name is Asher, and you are a contaminated twenty-something dryad. What has led you to decide that the best place for you is in a derelict nursing home full of lazy, useless men?” Crimm’s words bit the air. Cerulean sighed; Bisque said nothing.

“You may be interested to know that I am currently the only one working substantial hours on discovering a cure for your affliction. Stay out of my way, and I may be able to help you.”

Was that supposed to be a gesture of goodwill? Asher couldn’t tell.

Nilla came back with one plate. “Oh, that’s where you went, Bisque.”

“Good afternoon, Vanilla. I assume Beige wanted to eat in his room.”

“Yeah, no moving him.”

“He is having a particularly bad day. I am surprised he is eating at all,” Bisque tried to smile, but it didn’t quite work.

“... Azure, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet,” Crimson asked. “Did someone take the batteries out of your spine?”

“NOPE! I’M JUST LISTENING TO THE LOVELY CONVERSATION,” Azure managed to sound cheerful.

“How is your brother coming along?” Bisque asked him.

“JUST… GREAT! HE’S UP FROM THREE BOTTLES OF HONEY TO FOUR, WHICH AT THE VERY LEAST MEANS HE’S GETTING ENOUGH CALORIES TO SURVIVE.”

“And enough booze to get preserved, Jesus Christ,” Cinn gasped. “How the fuck are you so goddamn carefree while that’s happenin’ in your house?”

“WELL, CINN, WE CAN’T ALL LIVE A CHARMED LIFE. SOME OF US HAVE A LITTLE LESS STABLE OF A FAMILY DYNAMIC THAN YOU, AND YOU WOULD DO WELL TO BE A LITTLE LESS JUDGEMENTAL!” Was that a smile, or Azure baring his teeth?

“Alright, that’s enough out of all of you. It’s time to eat,” Edge sighed, before setting down a tray of piping hot, restaurant-perfect lasagna.

“Edge, this is beautiful. You don’t have to keep pulling out all the stops for me; I promise a sandwich is okay,” Asher joked.

“A sandwich would actually take me longer. I need to find the correct balance of flavors to create a perfect sandwich, whereas lasagna’s base ingredients are established and foolproof.”

“YES, WE CAN’T ALL COOK LIKE YOUR BROTHER EITHER, CINN.”

“Okay, ya made your point, Azure! Gods, even when you’re depressed you still manage to grate on my goddamn nerves.”

“OH, THE FEELING IS MUTUAL, CINN.”

“FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK, YOU TWO!” Edge raised his voice, startling everyone. “I’m sorry, Papaya. I should have used my inside voice.”

“No, I think you were justified,” Papaya shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear anyone speak another word. We are going to eat, and it is going to be delicious, and then we are going to  **go home and reflect on our behavior. Cinn.”**

Cinn actually seemed like he felt kind of bad.

The rest of lunch went off without a hitch, mostly because no one spoke another word. Everyone cleared the dishes, carefully packaged leftovers, and headed home.

No one had even showed Asher where his room was. He didn’t blame them, but he did feel a little neglected. As he got up from the table, the last one to leave, he noticed a little piece of paper on the table.

_ Hey, _

_ If i don’t do this now I’ll forget. My number, because you shouldn’t have to put up with my family alone. _

_ Nilla, XXX-XXX-XXXX _

Odd… Asher stashed the paper in his pocket. He wasn’t ready to talk to Vanilla after how inhospitable he’d been, regardless of the reasons.

Another item was left behind on one of the chairs; it was a hand-bound leather sketchbook. Asher only opened the first page to see whose it was.

_ I heard your ex stole all your drawings _

_ I draw too and i would be really upset  _

_ Cortado and i bind books for fun so please keep this one _

_ Here are our numbers: _

_ Me: XXX-XXX-XXXX _

_ Cortado: XXX-XXX-XXXX (if he takes a long time to answer, it’s because he is thinking) _

_ Riesling: XXX-XXX-XXXX (don’t worry, he types in all caps but he’s not mad) _

_ -Espresso _

So they hadn’t completely forgotten him; they were all just eager to get away from each other. Scamp had left him the rest of the box of dragon’s blood incense, and Sliv had left him the strange plum wine he had insisted Asher drink earlier. 

Asher smiled, scooping up all of the items. Maybe he’d just have to find a room for himself. 

After some wandering around, with Pooferton following close behind, Asher discovered a corner room that he really liked. It was one of those Victorian tower-shaped rooms, with a tall, pointed ceiling and intricate windows. No one seemed to be living there; there were no belongings in sight. Just a massive, but bare bed, and two bedside tables.

He could make this work. 

He had to.


	11. I See A Beige Door and I Want To Paint It Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher goes on a shopping trip with the world's saddest skeleton. It turns out he's not so bad if you give him some attention.

Asher finished hanging up his clothes and lay on the bare mattress, looking up.

He was overwhelmed already and it wasn't even dinnertime.

"Oh, Poofpoof. I hope they don't get mad at me for smoking incense indoors."

"Mraow."

He rubbed Pooferton's tummy, the cat looking content.

"I love how we all went shopping for clothes, but we got absolutely zero home goods. Guess we're sleeping on a bare mattress tonight, babyboy."

_PURRRRRRRRR_

"Well, if we can't sleep, we aren't in the mood to draw, and we can't garden, then let's cook. What do you think?"

Pooferton looked excited. He knew scraps might be involved if he accompanied the chef. He hopped off the bed and stared at Asher expectantly.

"Alright, gimme a sec." He got up with a grunt and headed towards the kitchen.

The fridge was barren. There was a tin of instant café au lait un the corner, completely out of place, and some assorted empty Tupperware.

"Looking for something?" Crimson smirked.

"Jesus, don't do that!" Asher squeaked. 

"What, speak?" The wiseass answered.

"No, sneak up on people, you fucking gremlin. Yes, I'm looking for a sign that literally anyone in this house is eating."

"Thanks to pantry thieves, we all keep our food in our rooms, in respective locked mini fridges. I would suggest you do the same."

Asher shook his head. "I'll pass."

"So you enjoy frustration and wasting money?"

"No, I just don't have a minifridge."

Asher pulled his briefcase's shoulder strap on.

"You don't have house keys or a car. Where do you intend on going?"

"I'll grab a bus. I'm pinched for money but not destitute. Not yet", Asher grinned tensely.

"Just offer to drive the child already, you cougar," a voice purred behind him. A purple eyed, shifty looking skeleton slinked up to the fridge and started himself a cup of coffee.

He made Asher's leaves stand on end.

"I don't get attached to cannon fodder," Crimson scoffed.

"I'm 22," Asher grumbled.

Both men laughed mockingly. "22… so sweet. So tender, so naive, so easy to use," Mauve chortled.

"Wow, I can't think of a more creepy fucking way to introduce yourself. I'm Asher, nice to meet you."

"I could have snuck up on you instead," Mauve was quick as a fox.

These two were pieces of work. 

"Are you two harassing our new tenant already? Honestly, you two," Cerulean tutted. "What are you looking for in there, Asher?"

“Anything edible.”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing around there anymore. Someone keeps taking all of the food out, so we started keeping our own supplies. Do you need to go to the supermarket? Can you afford it?”

Asher gritted his teeth. All this talk about his finances was starting to rub him the wrong way.

“I… I’ll manage. I can go without tonight, until the house key is ready, and then I’ll grab a bus tomorrow. I’m gonna just take some time alone.”

“Oh! Have I upset you in some way?” Cer called after him.

“No, I’m fine,” Asher lied, and closed the door behind him.

“Listen to these assholes. All “where are you going without a car” this and “can you even afford to eat” that. It’s all so goddamn theoretical to them, what it’s like to go without. Is this how it’s gonna be the whole time we’re here, poofy boy?” He asked his cat. Pooferton hopped onto the bed and nuzzled his snoot against Asher’s cheek.

Suddenly, there was a near silent knock on the door. It was so quiet that Asher thought he was hearing things, until the second knock.

“.... Mr. Asher? Are you inside?”

Asher carefully sat up and went to the door, leaning on his cane. He opened it just a crack.

Another Aster elder, this one with demure caramel eyes, stared down at him. He was taller than Asher; they all were. But his hunch had them somewhat at eye level with each other.

“...Yes. I haven’t seen you before.”

“That is not surprising… I do not spend much time out and about. My name is Beige Aster… I heard that you were going without food.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“.... Please let me take you to the convenience store.”

Asher was a little surprised. “Why?”

“.... Please.”

He couldn’t say no to those coffee cream eyes. But he needed to know a little more first.

“Why do you want to help me?”

“.... May I confess something to you?” Beige asked, walking a little closer. 

“Uh, sure.”

“.... I am one of the pantry thieves… I cannot help it. I have been without food for long periods of time, and whenever I see something out, I get o-overwhelmed with the urge to take it, especially if it has been sitting uneaten for a long time. It is my fault that the fridge is empty, and I wish to make it up to you.”

Asher let a smile creep over his face. This guy wasn’t all bad.

“Let’s go.”

“Did you see that? The little minx got the hermit out of the house,” Mauve chuckled.

“That’s not a polite way to discuss our tenant. His name is Asher, and we will be calling him that **_exclusively_ **in my presence,” Cerulean warned.

“You’re just no fun whatsoever, are you? Even the catatonic one knows when to loosen up,” Mauve continued. Cerulean pinned him with quite a nasty look. 

“My, what a scowl. You’re starting to get Crimson’s frown lines.”

“Shut it, you smirking sack of slime,” Crimson muttered back.

“I was going to take him to the supermarket myself… I wonder why he ran away,” Cerulean asked, confused.

“What, just casually being asked if you can afford food isn’t a turn-on for you?” Crimson sneered. Cerulean flushed a deep indigo. “Crimm! There’s no need to be so crude. You’re starting to sound like----”

There was a clatter and some stumbling steps at the door. 

“Speak of the devil,” Mauve giggled.

Asher followed Beige out into a cream-colored Chrysler Town and Country, a comparatively modest car next to the others in the lot. He seemed to struggle with walking, like he was out of practice, and used a cane. It was a lot nicer than Asher’s, with a mother of pearl handle and a light maple body. He had an ivory scarf wrapped around his neck, and a cardigan that went down to his feet. Were those Sperry’s? He was dressed in a bizarre hybrid of grandma and fuckboy, but it looked nice.

“I am sorry if the car is not as nice as the others. I couldn’t justify such an expenditure to myself when I could easily use the money for food, or to get my sons something nice for their farm.”

“Your sons? Were they at the lunch?”

“The lasagna lunch? No… they had meant to make it, but they probably got caught up in something, or Axe had one of his episodes.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one who has them,” Asher joked.

“Axe’s episodes are a little more… outwardly destructive than inward. It is best to just give him some alone time when he is set off,” Beige sighed softly. Everything about him was so gentle and quiet; even his footsteps and cane didn’t make a sound. He opened the door for Asher before letting himself in.

“Have you tied your seatbelt?”

Asher nodded. It was kind of cute that he had thought to check.

“I suppose we’re off, then,” Beige did his best to smile.

Asher tried his damndest too.

They pulled into a nice, high end organic supermarket.

“Wh---- Beige, I can’t afford this.”

“I can. It is the least I can do for being such a bother to everyone,” Beige smiled weakly. 

“You’re not bothering me,” Asher responded immediately.

Beige paused, one foot out of the car.

“I’m not?”

“No, of course not! Why would you be bothering me? You’re the only one who bothered to help.”

“Ah… I suppose I am used to being an inconvenience for everyone,” Beige tried to explain. “You know… ‘Where’s Beige?’ ‘ _Still_ in his room’, and so on and so forth.”

“Depressed people are never a bother in and of themselves! I can’t believe anyone’s treating you like that. You’re always welcome in my room if you need a new place to… just exist that isn’t the same room as always.”

Beige seemed touched. 

“Th…. thank you. No one, besides Bisque, has offered me their space to recover in. You are truly an excellent match for us all. Crimson needs to have a little faith.”

Asher turned away to hide the soft grey blush on his cheeks. “Well, let’s get inside.”

They stepped in, garnering looks of disgust from humans and concern from other monsters. Asher swallowed. He wasn’t ready. 

No one should have to look at him.

He didn’t realize he’d come to a total standstill until Beige took his hand, and helped him move forward again.

**Just one step at a time, and you will eventually stop having to think about it.**

Asher almost tripped. Had Beige spoken… from inside his own head?

**Oh! I am sorry to have startled you… I did not know if I would be able to do this. I am communicating across the VOID with my thoughts, to the VOID within you. I can stop if you would like.**

Asher shook his head. Beige’s voice was helping so much. 

“.... Do you like to cook?” Asher asked.

“Ah! My youngest absolutely adores it; my older does it when he has to. I haven’t had the energy in a long time.”

Asher held his hand a little tighter. “Do you want to try with me?”

“What would we cook?” He asked, an ivory flush on his own face.

“Hmmm…. How about spaghetti? That’s easy. Most of the work is already done for us, unless you want to try it from scratch.”

Beige paused to think, before nodding, a little spark to his eyelights. “My youngest makes it from scratch… I would like to try, too.”

“Cool! We’ll need a pasta grinder…. Hm.” Were they stuck already?

“I know where those are. They will be in the fancy cooking shop next door. For now, let’s just gather ingredients, and we can get there when we get there,” Beige continued.

They made their way through the aisles, Beige relying on memory for what ingredients were best, and Asher making new suggestions. They checked out, went to another store, and bought the pasta grinder, before piling into the car.

“Jeez, I’m tired,” Asher sighed, wiping sooty sweat off his forehead.

“Likewise.. I don’t really wish to cook this evening.”

They stopped for a moment, before cracking up.

“Oh fuck, we tired ourselves out before even starting!” Asher wheezed.

“I think _snort_ this is what my children would call a cruel irony,” Beige chortled. He had a bit of an uneven, underused laugh. A laugh that Asher liked.

“Wanna get a pizza and take it home?” He asked. Beige nodded between giggles. 

“I know a good place, at least, according to Slivovitz.” They took a detour through a wooded, stunning road. Beige rolled the windows down, and the scent of cedar and pine wafted into the windows through the gentle summer breeze. Asher stuck his head out the window, his hair fluttering in the wind with a raspy sound.

“We just need to take this exit to the left, and… perfect. We’re here!”

Man, the building was old. Beat up windows, grimy walls, but the interior was spotless, if not dated. A grey fire elemental walked up to the front counter to take their order. Asher winced.

“Welcome to Sourby’s Pizzeria. What can I getcha today?”

“Two large hawaiian pizzas, with extra bacon, cheese, and pineapples.”

Asher’s eyes widened. “You also like pineapple on pizza?”

“Of course I do! I’m not an uncultured swine, like the others. This will assure that none of the other pantry thieves will want to touch our food,” Beige tapped his skull with a grin.

“What do you think of sardines on pizza?” Asher asked. He secretly loved them.

“Delicious. Just not with pineapple.”

“Thank you! Everyone judges me when I get sardines on my pie.”

“No judgement here, unless you like kalamata olives. I’ve never had something so bitter and inedible in my life, but Crimson adores them. Go figure.”

Asher snorted.

“What the hell’s his problem? He’s grouchy even for a Fellie.”

“Well, he hasn’t had the time to acclimate to the United Surface. None of us have… so the year that his sons had to adjust is time that he spent alone in the VOID.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I… I couldn’t imagine being in the VOID for longer than I was. Especially not years… or decades.”

“Decades is about right… it is hard to tell, with the RESETs and the anomalies, how long it actually was. But you do not need to apologize. It was our own follies that landed us in there. This is a rather gloomy topic, though… and as someone with depression, I can sense other pained souls. Let us discuss something lighter.”

“Like being too tired to make pasta?”

“Like being too tired to make pasta. Or the eldritch horror that is kalamata olives.”

They were laughing still as they pulled into the driveway. “Well, where shall we set up camp? My room is… in terrible shape.”

“My room has nothing in it besides me and my cat, so we can be there.”

“Are you sure? We are just about strangers, so I would understand.”

“We’re not strangers. We’re roommates. Get in,” He grinned, opening his door. 

“Mraow!”

Beige smiled softly at the cat. Pooferton rubbed himself against his legs.

“He has been so soothing to me, on my hard days. I do not know how you managed without him.”

“Neither do I,” Asher sighed. “But he’s here now. I’m here now. And so are you.”

Beige blushed, waving a hand.

“Let us eat.”

They got through both pizzas pretty quickly. Asher still wasn’t used to his enormous appetite, but it was nice being able to enjoy food without being immediately full. Beige seemed a little less wistful than when he’d first come in, eating happily as well.

Until they heard sobbing from the living room.

“Who is that? Should we go help him?”

“I… that’s Verdant. I am sure he has been drinking himself to death again. It is best to keep one’s distance, unless you enjoy the scent of green apple-flavored puke.”

“Well, I can’t just leave someone crying out there like that. Give me a second.”

He stepped into the hall, following the sobbing back to the kitchen. 

The skeleton in question was in a pile of his own vomit on the floor, weeping profusely. Ugh, it was green apple and bile, all right.

“Hey, are you ok---- wait, why am I asking that? Of course you’re not okay. Um…”

_Hic_ “No, I’m fine, Umami… just one more, please, just one more….”

Yikes. 

“Look, my name’s Asher. I’m your new roommate. I’m gonna get you cleaned up and ready for bed, okay?”

“Idunwannagotobed.”

“It’s bedtime, uh, Verdant.”

Beige had ventured into the hall as well. “You will need help moving him. He’s like a sack of bricks when he’s wasted.”

“Oh, bedtime already? Alright, then,” he slurred, going to stand up before falling in his puke. Ugh…

Asher scooped him up, feeling a lot stronger than he had before.

“Ah, I forgot about the strengthening effects of the VOID. Have you got him, dear?” Beige asked.

“Yeah, go ahead and grab some clothes from his room,” Asher responded, nicking the drunken skeleton’s keys and tossing them to Beige.

“Are you an angel?” Verdant hiccuped. 

“No, I’m Asher. Let’s start your bath.”


	12. A Bad Case of Diary-a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asher has to eat breakfast twice, no thanks to a purple-eyed bastard of a skeleton.

Asher gently peeled off Verdant's filthy clothes, tossing them in a pile in the bathroom corner.

"Aren't you at least gonna  _ hic  _ take me out to dinner first?" He asked.

"Shut up," Asher answered.

"Mouthy for an angel," Verdant slurred before hiccuping again. Asher just rolled his eyes. He averted his eyes as he removed Verdant's boxer briefs, but… it was kind of hard to miss how big he was. Asher instead focused on not staring, and tossed Verdant into the tub.

"Ow, shit, I landed on my arse."

"You are an arse---- ass."

"An arseass?"

"Gods, just be quiet and let me bathe you, dipshit," Asher rolled his eyes.

Beige wandered in with Verdant's new clothes. 

"I'll… toss those in the wash," he wrinkled his nasal bone at the pile, before summoning spectral hands to carry the filthy clothes to the washer.

“Alright,” Asher’s brows furrowed with focus. The Drunk Routine went like so:

  1. Remove gross clothes. Check.
  2. Start a sponge bath. Check
  3. Throw grossness in the wash. Check.
  4. Make sure the drunk doesn’t drown in the sponge bath. 
  5. If they puke, make sure it isn’t in the tub, or you’ll have to repeat steps 2-4.



He’d done it plenty of times for Theo, to his chagrin. But this wasn’t Theo, he reminded himself. This was someone who might, just might, show some gratitude later.

“.... why’re you doing this for me? I’m nobody to you,” Verdant managed, a little more sober already.

“You’re my roommate. And I’m not leaving you in a pile of puke all night. That just doesn’t sit right with either of us,  _ right  _ Beige?” He was a little miffed that Beige had intended to leave him out, but then again, Beige was probably sick of cleaning up after him. He just couldn’t picture Cerulean washing puke clothes.

“Ah, yes. If you are uncomfortable, I can wash him. I have done it plenty of times.”

“I’m sorry, Beige, I---”

“Shush. None of that. Just try and be a little more responsible. It wouldn’t kill you, you know, with you being  _ tenured faculty at our institution _ , to act like an adult,” Beige responded pointedly. 

“I’m okay with giving him a wash. I used to do this for Theo all the time. And once you’ve seen one cock you’ve seen them all, right?”

“Now, I assure you you’ve never seen a cock like mine---”

“Enough, Verdant. You can hit on him to your heart’s content when you don’t smell like bile.”

Asher couldn’t help but laugh. These men sounded like old friends. It was a welcome change from the weird mix of sexual tension and animosity between Crimson and Mauve. He really didn’t want to be alone with those two again. 

He wet a sponge and grabbed a bottle of plain Castille soap, lemon scented, before starting to scrub Verdant’s flesh and bones. He was quite well built, well, for a skeleton. Asher hadn’t known any skeletons or ghosts in his glen growing up, so they were still something he needed to get used to.

“Ah, that’s the spot. Are you sure you’re not an angel?” Verdant groaned, thankfully in a nonsexual manner.

“I’m certain.Turn over.”

The water sloshed as Verdant showed off his front. Once again, Asher did his best not to look, but it was… well, hard.

“Well, you’re all cleaned up. Can you stand?”

“I don’t think so. Will you carry me to my room?~”

Asher gave Verdant a deadpan look.

“I do need at least someone to lean on to get there.”

“You know what? You’re staying in my room tonight. I don’t feel comfortable with moving you that far and leaving you to sleep when you could puke again and die.”

“Oh, in your room already?” 

“For the love of fuck, Verdant, stop testing poor Asher’s kindness! He’s doing you a favor. Act a little goddamn civilized!” Beige scolded his colleague.

“It’s okay. Alright, big guy. Let’s move,” Asher stood, put a towel on Verdant and that  _ thing _ , and moved them to his room, before laying Verdant down on the floor with some pillows. 

“Sleep on your side. If I see you sleeping on your back, I’ll push you, but try and be careful.”

Pooferton rubbed up into Verdant’s face. He hugged the cat close, and Pooferton made himself comfortable.

“.... thank you, angel.”

“It’s Asher.”

“Can’t I call you angel?” Verdant’s big green puppy eyelights were too much for Asher. He sighed and nodded his head.

“Beige, you’re welcome to stay, or return to your room. Whatever you’d like.”

“I’d like to stay, if that’s alright.”

Asher patted his bed. Beige blushed, before laying down, giving Asher plenty of space. He pulled a book out of his coat, and some gold-filled, hexagonal reading glasses, before settling in to read.

“Goodnight, angel,” Verdant slurred.

“Goodnight, Verdant. Sleep well. Don’t vomit on my floor.”

“I’ll try.”

Asher turned to Beige, ignoring the warmth in his own cheeks.

“Goodnight, Beige.”

“Goodnight.”

Asher was woken by the scent of bacon.

“Good morning,” Verdant croaked, a spectral hand holding an ice pack to his head. In his proper hands was a tray covered in goodies.

“You made me breakfast in bed? I haven’t gotten that kind of treatment in ages!” Asher exclaimed, before realizing how sad that sounded. “Why did you do this? I didn’t do anything substantial…”

“You let a creepy drunk skeleton sleep in your room without even knowing him. That is substantial in my world,” Verdant shook his head. After Asher set the tray on his bedside table, Verdant  _ bowed _ , before kissing his hand.

“Oh! I… er---”

“My name is Verdant Aster. I apologize for my rocky introduction last night. I am positively charmed to meet you.”

“Jeez, I really don’t warrant all this pomp and circumstance. I’m Asher, bacon connoisseur. Thank you so much for making me breakfast.”

“Where’s my breakfast? I washed your filthy clothes,” Beige grumbled playfully.

“You can make your own. Just kidding, here you are, old friend,” Verdant smiled, serving Beige his breakfast.

“What about you?” Asher asked.

“I can eat later.”

“At least have tea with us,” Asher insisted. “I don’t like eating without the cook.”

“If you insist, dear angel,” He bowed again on the way out the door.

Asher ate the entire plate of food. The VOID’s appetite enhancing abilities really were weird to him, but he relished every single bite.

Verdant returned with a tray for himself and some tea for everyone. Earl grey… Theo hated the stuff. Asher could never understand why. It was a soothing taste.

“This is such nice tea. Where did you buy it?” Asher asked.

“Muriel’s tea shop. The Queen of the Horror nation.”

Asher felt a pang of pain hit him. He didn’t know the details, but he knew those monsters had been through a lot and were especially reviled by humans.

“She’s got an excellent green thumb,” Beige added. “It is how she managed to survive for so long. Best Vegetoid planter in the underground as well. She used to win contests before the famine.”

“GIVE IT BACK! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF I HAVE TO!” Someone shouted from the living room. It didn’t sound like anyone that Asher knew. “Who was that?” 

“Ah… Noir, more than likely. I am not the only thief in the family,” Beige sighed. 

“I’ll go see what’s up,” Asher sighed, before standing and heading to the living room.

A short skeleton, built beautifully and with piercing maroon eyes, was shouting at a door at the top of his lungs.

“But it’s so fascinating! It gives me such an intimate window into your world,” Mauve purred from the other side of the door. Goddamn it, of course it was Mauve.

“THAT’S THE POINT OF A FUCKING DIARY! IT’S A WINDOW TO MY WORLD. THAT ONLY I AM SUPPOSED TO BE OPENING! IF YOU DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR, I’M GOING TO FUCKING BLAST IT!”

“Please don’t, Noir. You know the house can’t withstand that kind of force,” Beige protested from Asher’s room.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS FEELS LIKE! OLD MAN, YOU HAVE UNTIL THE COUNT OF FUCKING TEN!”

“... Are you hungry?” Asher asked. Maybe he could slow Noir’s roll and fix the problem later.

“... Am I hungry?” Noir paused to think. “.... I think so. BUT WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS? ARE YOU THE NEW TENANT? YOU CAN’T PROTECT THAT CROTCHETY PIECE OF SHIT FROM ME!”

Asher winced at the noise. “No, believe me. I want him to get his as much as you do. But… uh, you’ll make a much bigger blast if your magic is replenished.

“Asher, don’t encourage him!” Beige scolded, coming out of the room.

Verdant remained quiet, a knowing smile on his face.

“Fascinating. Alliances are being formed already,” Mauve mused from his room.

“It’s not alliances, Mauve, it’s food. And I bet you’re hungry too. Just come out, and let’s have breakfast together.”

“.... Very well, little sapling~”

Gods, even the way Mauve talked was punchable. It was charming on Verdant, but skeevy as shit on him.

The door opened, and Asher braced himself for attack magic, but Noir had stopped his roll. Asher immediately went to the kitchen and started making pancakes. He could stand to eat more, and the others probably could too.

“The whole point of breakfast in bed is that you not have to cook, my angel,” Verdant chuckled.

“You know what I’m doing, right?” Asher asked, curious. 

“Basic diplomacy. De-escalation. Of course.”

“What do you like in your pancakes, Noir?”

“PEACHES, THANK YOU, SAPLING.”

“Hehe, my name’s Asher.”

“WAIT, HOW DID YOU KNOW MY NAME?”

“Beige told me.”

“OH.”

Noir seemed fidgety.

“Do you want to help?” 

“I---ER---- YES PLEASE!” He asked. Please sounded a little weird on him, but Asher scooted over and let him use the other stove to make pancakes faster. Noir immediately focused, chopping peaches into thin veneer slices, adding vanilla extract and vegetable oil to the batter, followed by a dash of heavy cream. 

“You know how to make good pancakes,” Asher noted.

“WHO DOESN’T?” Noir shrugged, though Asher could see a lot of pride on his face.

“So what did Mauve take from you?”

“MY--- MY DIARY,” Noir coughed.

“Oh, that’s fucked up. You have every right to be upset. We’ll get it sorted.”

“YOU CAN’T MAKE HIM UNREAD MY PRIVATE THOUGHTS.”

“Yes, but I can make him give it back. I can also, er, lay a simple Do Not Touch curse on the item. I don’t usually advocate for karmic retribution, but I kind of had to do that with some of my belongings when living with my ex. Not that it stopped him from stealing everything… Maybe I can cast it extra strong for you.”

Noir seemed grateful. “Thank you. It is a notebook that Riesling made for my birthday… it means a lot to me. We did not receive presents where I am from.”

“Of course it means something to you, then.” Asher flipped the last of his pancakes. “I’ll do my best to help. No guarantees, of course. Mauve seems to be kind of....”

“A SLIPPERY BASTARD?”

“You said it, not me,” Asher chuckled.

They finished off the batter. Time for Breakfast, take two.  



	13. Mauvey He's Not So Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Mauve trash or recyclable? You decide.

Asher set the table, and Noir served the pancakes. They looked beautiful.

“So, what does everyone like to drink? Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?” Asher asked. He’d had a brief stint as a waiter; it had not worked out, but he hadn’t forgotten what he’d learned.

Mauve wanted black tea with licorice; a terrible choice, but Asher humoured him regardless. Beige requested instant coffee with milk, Noir took his coffee black, and Verdant requested an irish coffee. His request was denied, so he settled for Darjeeling. Asher got lucky and founds some Lapsang Souchong that nobody had touched, so he served himself some deliciously smoky tea with a smile.

“So, Mauve. Why are you reading people’s diaries?”

“They’re fascinating. Such a deep insight into the fears and dreams of a person.”

“YES, WHICH IS WHY THEY ARE PRIVATE AND NOT FOR THE EYES OF NOSEY OLD MEN!” Noir protested.

“Noir, remember? We’re trying to get this sorted without shouting.”

“Oh, I’m shouting? I apologize. I still have trouble doing Papaya’s ‘inside voice’,” Noir adjusted, clearing his throat.

“Don’t worry. We all have our weird habits. Some of them are more acceptable than others. Reading diaries is not acceptable.”

Mauve shrugged. “Morality is subjective. What is unacceptable to you is standard procedure to you. As his parent, I have the right to be curious.”

Oh.

That’s what was going on.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you right as you’ve started eating, Mauve, but could we talk in private for a bit?”

“Oh? Are you certain you want to be alone with me?”

That was a damn good question, but Asher was willing to place his bets that he knew what was up.

“Try anything funny and I’ll tickle you to death.”

Cerulean blinked. “That is… an interesting threat.”

Asher shrugged. “Best I could do on such short notice.”

“Well, then, please excuse us,” Mauve purred, before getting up.

Asher walked with Mauve to the library. Pooferton spotted them and tagged along with a little chirp.

“So, what is it? Come to chew me out in private?” Mauve chuckled, nonchalantly sitting in an armchair.

“How often do your sons talk to you?” Asher asked.

Mauve paused for a moment, a genuine look of surprise on his face.

“You’re trying to outshrink a shrink, aren’t you?” He chortled.

“Just humour me, okay, Mauve? How often do your sons talk to you? And no, getting chewed out by them doesn’t count.”

Mauve’s shoulders drooped. The question was slowly knocking the blowhard out of him.

“I… er….”

“They don’t, do they?”

Mauve shook his head. 

“You recognize as a psychologist that throwing these kinds of tantrums and acting up won’t make them want to get any closer to you, right?” Asher asked.

“.....”

Mauve’s cup of tea trembled in his hands. Shit, had Asher pushed him too far?

Mauve just nodded sullenly. “I’m aware.”

“Then why do you continue to do it? Noir is pissed off enough that I doubt this is the first time you’ve done something like this.”

“... I tend to act out quite a bit, yes.” He looked like a guilty child.

“So I can tell that you know it’s wrong, and that you know that “subjective morality” spiel is a load of crap. Why are you still doing it?”

Mauve didn’t answer.

“I’ll return his diary.” He got up and headed back to the kitchen. This was probably the best that Asher would be able to do for now, so he and Pooferton returned as well. 

Mauve retreated into his room, and came back with a boxful of identical black Lechtturms. 

“.... you’re giving them back?” Noir asked, eyes wide.

He just nodded and returned to his room, plate uneaten.

Noir turned to Asher, impressed.

“.... I don’t know what you did, but I’ve been trying to get these back for ages. Every time I finish one, he teleports into our apartment and takes it.” 

Asher shook his head, blushing. “It’s nothing. Just… I’m not saying this is all your fault. Mauve knows he’s being a shit. But try to visit him a little more.”

“He’s unbearable.”

“I think he just wants you to pay a little more attention to him.”

Noir paused to think, eating the rest of his pancakes.

“That would… explain a lot. Mut--- Morus kept telling me to just let him keep them. I can see why now. I’ll… be back.”

The little dryad had given Noir a lot to think about. He had spent very little time on the United Surface himself; his universe had only joined the Overlap less than six months ago. He didn’t have the advantages that Edge had; his relationship with his brother was a lot more tense, and he envied the way Edge and Cinn seemed to be able to communicate and understand each other without words. Morus gave him advice pretty constantly, but Noir rarely knew what it meant unless it was directly related to their survival.

He knew that the dryad was following him, but he decided to not say anything about it. His father’s room was at the very end of the hall, surrounded by empty rooms on both sides because no one else could stand him.

Sometimes he suspected that was why Nilla had placed his and Morus’s apartment at the end of the hall too. It was lonely, but at least he didn’t have to worry about how loud his voice was, because they had no immediate neighbors.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“What is it? Come to chastise me more?”

He’d never heard his father sound like that… upset. He always had some smug tone to his voice, some witty comeback to rub his intellect in Noir’s face.

“JUST OPEN THE DAMN DOOR.”

The door opened, a spectral hand drifting back to Mauve’s side. He was working at his desk, faced away from Noir.

The thump of the box hitting the floor frightened him into looking at Noir.

“KEEP THEM.”

“Wh--- you’ve been harrassing me for months to give them back.”

“LOOK… I THINK I KNOW WHY YOU WANT THESE. YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW ME BETTER, DON’T YOU?”

His father didn’t answer. Too prideful.

“I’LL TRY TO COME BY MORE OFTEN. IN THE MEANTIME, I.. UM.. HOPE THAT THESE CAN KEEP YOU SUFFICIENT COMPANY. GOODBYE, FATHER,” He concluded quickly, closing the door.

The dryad was waiting for him at the end of the hall, a gentle smile on his face. “That was a really good thing you did, Noir.”

Noir blushed. “I’M NOT ALWAYS A COMPLETE BRUTE.”

“I don’t see a brutish bone in your body,” the dryad responded. “You’re just a little rough and a little loud.”

“.... YOU DON’T? I DO. I JUST SHOUT AND ANNOY EVERYONE. I CAN TELL THEY DON’T WANT ME AROUND.”

“I want you around. I want you to visit as often as you can, actually,” the dryad chuckled. “And if some people don’t like you, I want you to find someone who does, even if it’s just one person. I know they’re out there… even for people like you and me.”

For the first time, Noir left the home with a smile.

F1lmN0iR: MORUS. I CHANGED MY MIND.

sMutty: fr why

F1lmN0iR: I DON’T KNOW WHAT SORT OF HOODOO THIS TENANT KNOWS HOW TO WORK BUT HE GOT MAUVE TO GIVE ME BACK ALL MY SHIT

sMutty: no fucking way

sMutty: once that bastard steals something he never gives it back

F1lmN0iR: I TOOK A PICTURE FOR PROOF

_ F1lmN0iR uploaded holyshit.png _

sMutty: those are the past 10 years of your journals

sMutty: you weren’t kidding

sMutty: are you gonna be able to carry those to the car? I know you’re strong m’Lord but still

F1lmN0iR: I’M NOT BRINGING THEM HOME

sMutty: what do u mean

F1lmN0iR: I DECIDED TO LET HIM KEEP THEM

sMutty: okay what the fuck m’lord

F1lmN0iR: WELL I KIND OF TOOK SOME TIME TO THINK ABOUT IT

AND I REALIZED THAT HE MIGHT BE LONELY

sMutty: u can’t be serious 

F1lmN0iR: I’M SERIOUS. WE NEVER SPEND ANY TIME WITH HIM UNLESS WE’RE RETRIEVING SOMETHING HE STOLE. IT EXPLAINS WHY HE KEEPS TAKING SHIT. SOMETIMES THERE’S NOT EVEN A PATTERN TO WHAT HE TAKES. LIKE HE TAKES MY BOOKS BUT ALSO TAKES THINGS LIKE BOTTLE OPENERS

sMutty: i wanna meet this tenant. Especially if he has your approval

F1lmN0iR: JUST PLEASE TRY NOT TO INTIMIDATE HIM

I KNOW IT’S A HARD HABIT TO BREAK BUT PLEASE DON’T MAKE HIM WANT TO LEAVE

I REALLY THINK HE’LL BE GOOD FOR FATHER

sMutty: u know how I operate. I’ll c what i can do

  
  



	14. Colliding Interests

The rest of the day went uneventfully. Asher made paninis for all of the Aster men that hadn’t left for work, tucked Beige into bed when he was pushing himself too hard, and put all the liquor from Verdant’s room into the communal pantry. That was way too much booze for one guy.

“I see that someone’s been rummaging through the others' belongings,” a voice coldly stated.

“Crimson! Yeah… if Verdant is always coming home the way I met him, maybe he doesn’t need quite so much alcohol in his room.”

“For once, I would agree with you. Let me warn you, however… if you touch any of my belongings, not even my sons will be able to save you.” Those frigid red eyes pierced right through Asher.

“If I see you engaging in the same kind of unhealthy habits, I’m sure your King and Queen would understand my responsibility to intervene,” Asher countered, standing up straight. He barely measured up to Crimson’s collarbone, but he had to try.

“Oh, that’s if they make it in time,” Crimson chuckled. Asher just sighed. “Look, my job is to make sure you’re okay. There’s no reason to be such a dick, Crimm.”

“Crimm?” Crimson asked, raising his voice further, stepping closer.

“Yes. Crimm.” 

“Hmph.”

“So, what do you like on your panini?”

“I don’t need to eat. I’m busy,” Crimson waved a hand.

“Your sons will laugh when they find out I had to chase you down to make you eat a sandwich,” Asher smirked. 

Crimson grimaced. 

“Chili peppers. Pimento cheese. Turkey. Butter on both sides. Deliver it to the room on the other side of Mauve’s.” With that, he left, his dress shoes clacking as he walked.

Asher squinted a bit at his shoes. Those were…. Yep. They were high heeled men’s dress shoes. He wondered what Crimson’s actual height was. He was probably still taller than Asher.

He started work on Crim’s sandwich. It was definitely an odd request of a panini, but he followed it to the tee. It actually smelled pretty nice on the griddle.

“Smells good,” a voice chuckled behind him. It took all of Asher’s self control to not jump and accidentally hit the new person with the griddle.

“Eep! Stop fucking sneaking up on me, Mau--- Oh. You’re new.”

The skeleton standing behind him wore a beaten general’s jacket, made of well cared for, old leather, with fur trim on the edges of the hood, and tight, dark wash pants. His eyes looked deep into Asher’s, the color of the bottom of a beer bottle when illuminated by sunlight.

“New yourself. Are you supposed to be the new tenant that my brother was raving about? You don’t look anything special.”

Asher shrugged. “I’m not. Whether---- whoever your brother is, was talking about me or not is on him.”

“Hmph. Anyways, the name’s Mutt.”

“You’re joking. I understand being named after colors and wine, but Mutt can’t be your real name.”

“It’s not. You don’t get my real name.”

What was this guy’s problem?

“Okay, Agent Mutt. How can I help you? Is that giant chip on your shoulder making your back hurt?”

“Nyeh heh, good one. No, but you can help me in another way, and that’s trust.”

Asher went to deliver the panini, but Mutt stood in front of him.

“What do you mean, trust?”

“I mean, if Old Man Crim trusts you to make his food, that’s pretty impressive. But maybe you shouldn’t put so much trust in him.”

Asher sighed. “Stop with the bullshit secrecy and just spit it out already. This sandwich is gonna get cold.”

“Fine. I was tryna ease you into it, but… he’s makin’ another one.”

Asher moved his hand, as if to say ‘go on’.

“Another collider.”

Asher almost dropped his plate.

Another collider.

Another death machine that constantly either broke down or yielded inconclusive results. 

A new version of the thing that had almost killed him, and Crimson was heading it?

“Oh, and you can forget about talkin’ him out of it. This is one of the few things he won’t cave on, even to a cute little dead tree like you.”

“... you’re lying. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Sure he would. You’ve cleaned his office. You’ve probably looked at his accolades without even knowing what they mean. ‘Head Scientist, Military Science Division, Fell Nation’. Do you seriously wanna risk putting it past him?”

Asher shoved Mutt out of the way. “I need to deliver this sandwich. Please get out of my way.”

“Suit yerself. But if he makes another one of those death machines, and the sucker who replaced you on the job gets sucked into it… it’ll be just as much dust on your hands as his.” With that, Mutt ported himself out.

Asher gently knocked on the door. No effect. He knocked a little louder… nothing. Eventually he just opened the door. Crimson removed earphones.

“Did nobody teach you to knock?”

“I just spent the last ten minutes knocking, Crimm. Here’s your sandwich.”

He accepted it, taking a bite. “A little cold.”

“Are you building another collider?”

Crimson almost spit out his coffee. 

“P…. please leave now.”

“Answer my---”

**“Now.”**

Asher stepped out, closing the door behind him. Why had he been so touchy about it? Was it true?

Maybe… he felt guilty about it?

“I’ll be in my room if you need me, Crimm,” He gently said through the door. No response. 

“It is typically best to give him space when he shuts down like that,” A gentle voice sighed. “Would you mind making me a sandwich as well, Asher?”

Asher turned slowly. As nice as the voice was, he was sick of people literally talking to his back. 

“Oh! We skeletons are typically teleporting in and out of the place, so we do not often stand and look at each other to speak. I forget that not everyone is a skeleton, from the sheer amount I am living with.” It was his professor, well… ex-professor. Dorian had withdrawn from school as soon as he’d remembered that he wouldn’t be able to keep pace with it again.

“Professor Clementine. I’m sorry for dropping your class,” Asher says immediately.

“No, I completely understand. School may not be a goal within reach at the moment. I hope that you do not permanently stop attending, and that you can find a headspace that will allow you to complete your undergraduate. You can just call me Clemm, if you would like,” The kindly, heterochromatic skeleton smiled at him. 

“So, what would you like on your sandwich?” Asher asked, as the older man followed him into the kitchen. 

“Just peanut butter and honey, grilled like a panini. It reminds me of my younger son.” The way Clemm said it sounded bittersweet.

“One peanut butter and honey sandwich, coming right up.”

The bread fizzled a little bit on the pan, it already being hot. 

“So, if you will not be studying, and you cannot work, what do you intend to do with your free time?” Clemm asked.

Asher stopped.

“.... I… hadn’t even thought about it.”

“Well, now you have something to think about. Besides keeping peace between nine difficult old men. On second thought, perhaps I should not have said anything,” Clemm sweated, scratching the back of his skull.

“No, it’s a valid question. Just not one I was ready for,” Asher chuckled. “Sandwich is ready.”

He served Clemm on a nice yellow plate.

“Thank you… I’ll excuse myself. Sorry, once again.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but Asher just wanted Clemm to leave.

What was he going to do now?

“Asher? Are you making lunch?” Mauve asked, a bit of a smirk in his voice. “You’re quite the industrious little butler.”

“I’m doing this because I know you won’t eat otherwise, not because I’m in any way your servant,” Asher sighed. “What kind of sandwich do you want?”

“Mozzarella cheese, tomatoes, pesto.”

“Got it.”

“Good boy.”

“Go fuck yourself with a rake, Mauve.”

“Perhaps Verdant would, but I have no interest. I actually wanted to ask you another favor.”

“What is it now?” Asher groaned.

“Would you mind assisting me in studying for my requalification exam? I am certain I’m ready, but it is best to be cautious.”

Asher was wary. “What’s involved? Are you gonna psychoanalyze me or something?”

“Myeh heh heh, I already did. No, I simply need you to read me flashcards, and I answer them.”

“Oh! That’s… a lot less sinister. Sure, but only after you eat,” Asher nodded. 

“Patient A is trying to get you to sign a paper that Patient B has bipolar disorder. Patient B does have bipolar disorder, but has not given you permission to sign any such forms. What do you do?

  1. Sign the form since Patient A has asked you to.
  2. Do not sign the form, but do not tell Patient B.
  3. Do not sign the form and tell Patient B.
  4. Sign the form because it would be in Patient B’s best interests.”



“B.”

Asher turned the card over. The answer was correct, again. “Nice job.”

“Thank you. These tests are child’s play.”

“Then why did you spend all day studying for them?” Asher asked.

“I… am a bit of an obsessive. I wish to make sure that I do not have to retest for the next five years, as well.”

“You? An obsessive?” Asher gestured to the diaries. “I would have never guessed.”

“See? You have the makings of a great psychologist. A lot of psychology is just stating the obvious, anyways.”

Asher tilted his head.

“So if you’re so bored of it, why are you in the field at all? You act like you already know everything there is to know.”

Mauve’s purple eyelights brightened. “But I don’t! That’s why I’m still in the field.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been rattling off these cards like they’re nothing.”

Mauve just smirked.

“... really? You’re gonna pull a Mutt on me too?”

Mauve almost shot out of his seat. “Morus was here? When? Is he still around?”

“He showed up, said some really vague things to me, and then left.”

Mauve drooped. “Oh…. I think I’m done studying for today. Thank you for your assistance.”

“Are you okay?”

Mauve reached for the first of the ten books that he’d gotten from Noir. 

“I will be fine, I assure you. Emotions are not the truth, after all. Please give me some time alone, little butler.”

Asher rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

He had a feeling he’d be on the receiving end of the door pretty often.

  
  
  



	15. Ghost of a Heart

Asher made everyone pancakes again for dinner; only Mauve, Beige and Cerulean had eaten them in the morning, and it was a quick food for large crowds to eat with ease. He figured they wouldn’t be eating as a group, so he just left them made and let the smell alert anyone who was hungry.

Nighttime in the house was more than a little eerie. Asher hadn’t had time to hang around the night before thanks to Verdant’s drunken episode. At the moment he’d been irritated, but now he would welcome a distraction. He was wandering around, trying to make sure that everyone had eaten by listening into their doors for chewing sounds. It was ridiculous, but he didn’t want to disturb anyone working. He would eventually get them all at the table for dinner, but right now just getting them to eat regularly was a victory.

He was listening into a grey-painted door when it suddenly burst open, smacking him across the face.

“Ow, shit…”

“Oh, goodness. Are you alright?” Another new skeleton. This one had lavender-white eyes, like a krypton gas light. There were some nasty scabs over his face, and thick, aviator pince-nez sat on his nasal bridge. He looked… more than a little disheveled.

“I’m okay, but are you? You’re covered in sweat. You look like you haven’t seen sunlight in days… no offense,” Asher asked.

The skeleton helped him up. “Oh, the paranormal never sleeps or bathes. And I’m almost certain I’m going to catch it… I just need a couple more days!”

“Catch what?” Asher’s hair stood on end.

“Why, the phantom that has been haunting these grounds since we moved in. I’m certain it followed one of us from where we were previously living, I simply do not have proof. Other than my phantographs, which everyone says are hokey, of course.”

Great. One of the Aster men was a conspiracy nut.

“I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m crazy. And I know that I certainly look the part of a mad scientist, but I’m just excited. I really think I’m close to a breakthrough. Maybe I can convince you! It would be nice to have my work believed by at least one person…”

Asher sighed. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and who needed good dreams anyways?

“Alright, crackpot. Show me what you’ve got.”

“Dr. Grey Aster, soul abnormality scientist, at your service. Right this way!” He grabbed Asher’s hand like a sugared-up little kid and tugged him right into his room.

There was a plate of pancakes on a fold out table, almost eaten. At least he had some food in his system, Asher smiled with relief. Relief that was quickly wiped out by the state of the room in which Grey was living.

Every cliche about mad scientists applied. Boiling beakers, cork boards connected by red string, it was like looking at a movie set. There was no bed in sight; only a scrunched up sleeping bag in a corner. A microwave that had seen better days, maybe about twenty years ago, was tipped over next to it.

“I apologize. This has become a bit of a field office since my first sighting of the apparition, and the others don’t want me in their workspace, so the personal and the professional have crossed wires a bit,” Grey blushed. “I promise to get it cleaned up soon. As soon as I’ve made contact with the abnormality.”

“So what’s the abnormality?”

Grey rummaged through his things, before pulling out some more official looking research notes. 

“A soul… made of dust. I have sensed it. And so have the others! They simply chalk it up to the VOID playing tricks on them, but I wasted enough time in the VOID to know that this is not a trick that it can pull off. No… it’s something else. Something very much of this world. Something phantasmagorical!”

“I think those last two contradict each other, Grey.”

“Certainly not. Behold!”

He pulled out some sort of hybrid between an instant and a view camera, hooked up straight to a scanner, hooked up to his computers. Plural.

The screen pulled up perfectly crisp black and white photographs of a translucent figure wandering the halls. The timestamps were a bit from before Asher had moved in.

“How do you know that’s not just Verdant or Beige wandering around?”

“I have confirmed their alibis. Also… nothing more than 50% alive will appear in these cameras. Allow me to prove it!”

Before Asher could protest, a bright flash of light hit him square in the face. With a little hiss, the phantograph printed itself out. 

He was in the picture, clear as day.

“Oh…. er… let me try another example!” Grey sweated, snapping a picture of a potted plant. Sure enough, the pot and table appeared in the picture, but no plant. He snapped a picture of himself, and he showed up. He opened the picture and stole a picture of a very grouchy-looking Crimson.

“I… er…. Don’t exactly know why you showed up in the pictures.”

Asher didn’t reply.

“You may be… errr… I don’t know how to break this….”

“More dead than alive. I’m aware. Look, I believe you.”

Grey’s eyes lit up, almost vibrating in their sockets. “You do?”

“I do. Just…. Don’t piss it off, okay? Don’t get intrusive with it. We’re both just trying to get through the day, and I wouldn’t want pictures constantly snapped of me either.”

“Tenant, I’m deeply sorry. I----”

“It’s Asher. And it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I think I just… need some time alone. Thank you for showing me this. It probably means a lot to you.”

Asher gently patted Grey’s shoulder, before heading into the hall. 

More dead than alive…

What did that mean for him? All those “half-dead” and “corpse looking” jokes he’d made about himself were true. He was, materially, just about 30% more corporeal than a ghost, according to the phantograph’s printed stats. About 43% material. The rest, a mixture of dust and void. He’d died, or mostly died, in that chamber.

His left leg started sending shooting pains up his spine. He’d forgotten to use his walker today, and his body was making him pay for it.

Before he could stop himself, he tripped hard, falling right at… of course. Crimson’s feet.

“Fighting the cane?” He asked. Asher waited for the sarcastic comment, or the snide remark, but none came. 

He just helped him stand up.

“I forgot I needed it. Not to mention how hideous it is,” Asher laughed nervously.

Crimson passed him a cup of Earl Grey. “Can you make it to the couches?”

Asher nodded, working his way to a faded yellow loveseat.

“Tomorrow I will be going cane shopping. Join me at your discretion. Your expenses will be reimbursed to me by the king and queen, so expense is of no issue. You may get as many as you believe you will need, or as many as we can carry home.”

Asher didn’t know what to say.

“I am an early riser. I expect you to be awake by 7, so that we may arrive before the human crowd and you will have plenty of time to choose what you like.”

“Crimson, that’s… thank you.”

“Practical problems require practical solutions.”

“Anyways, please take care to not disturb the phantasm. It does not enjoy company.”

“Wait, you believe in the ghost too? Grey said---”

“Grey is such good fun to mess with. Of course, at the beginning, I didn’t believe anything he had to say, but I have exchanged some… less than polite words with the ghost. It is vengeful, so I would advise you to keep your distance.” 

Asher clutched his forehead. “Look, I know you get a kick out of acting like you’re better than everyone else, but please do let Grey know you believe him. I think it would really help his mental state. He’s---”

“A fuckening mess. I know. I… shall entertain it.”

That was as good a yes as any.

“Thank you. And for the tea, and for the company. I know you don’t like being around others.”

Crimson shook his head.

“I enjoy company…. But the others frustrate me too much. I can’t speak to them.”

“How so?” Asher asked, curious. Crimson was pompous and cold, but not necessarily angry. Asher feared what a truly angry Crimson would look like.

“If we are a house of nine scientists, I should not be the only one working every day on the cure.”

“The cure?”

“To… this wretched thing that’s happened to you. To... to all of us. I’m slaving away on it every damn day.” He had tea in one hand, whiskey in the other, and they started to tremble.

“Bastards… I haven’t gotten any other kind of research done since I arrived to the United Surface, and these bunch of… after a month of work they all gave up! Or at least spent less time on it. Wasting away their days on ghost pictures and counseling humans that won’t live half as long as we will. Whoring themselves out and drinking themselves to death. It’s infuriating.”

Had Crimson’s face melted for a second? Asher tried not to think about it.

“... Excuse me. I have spoken too much. Damn whiskey, loosening things that should not be said. I will be retiring to my chambers. Please do not interact with the apparition.”

“Good night to you too, Crim.”

Asher washed his dishes and started back towards his room.

Damn if these hallways weren’t long. He had to stop and take breaks, as the pain in his leg shot upwards.

How had he gone all day without his cane? 

As he stepped forward, he could hear the echo of his feet behind him. Eventually, only halfway to his room, he collapsed. 

Asher dug his nails into his scalp full of dead hair. He could see his reflection in his falling tears, and he flicked them off his hands.

“Stupid… stupid… fucking….. Cane….. Stupid fucking face…. Why can’t I do anything right anymore?”

He buried his face back in his hands, but he couldn’t do it for too long. His hands were too black and dry. It was too dark behind his palms.

Y̸e̵t̴ ̶d̵a̶r̶k̴e̶r̷

Y̷̡̾̈́̆e̵̩͎̭͛̚t̷͎̓͝ ̸͇͒̎̍d̶̙͉̐͑ả̷̱̻̥̄̕r̶̦͔̺͒̋͝k̵̺͉̋̒e̸͉͔̗͌̓̇r̴͙̆̅̕

̵̛̼̦̻̥͗̂̍Ŷ̸̡͓̝̒e̴͉͋̕t̷̹̮̜͒̔ ̵̝̬̣͙͐͐͘d̶͔̠̭̓͆̀ä̸̞̫̜͎́́r̷͔̃̋̓k̶̫̯͊̇̂e̷̢͇͕̜͂̑̆͝r̶̤̞̈́̉

Y̴̰̯̥͍̯̍e̴͎̘͎͍̘̎́̾͋̕͝ͅţ̶̢͍̪̹̪̺͓͋̈͝ ̵̨̨̛̫̤̍͊̃̔ͅd̵̥̈́̉̽͝ȁ̷̢̼̥̫͙͓̋͑̈̔́̚r̵͔̥͋̔͂̈́̋̏͆͋̎͝k̷̡͙̞̲̇͋͊͊̽͛͑̄̾͜͝ę̶̼͇͖̟̓̽͒̋͜r̷̡̢̫̖̗̲̥̱̙̥̫͗͂̾̀̓̃̄̈́͝͝

̴̯͙̣̳̟͓̊͋̈́̈́̂̌͗͜

Before something yanked his face away from his hands. Maybe it was a gust of wind, but it felt so much more solid than that… either way, in front of Asher was his cane and a note.

“Stand Up”

Carefully, he reached across the hall for it, and helped himself to his feet. For some reason, it was easier than usual. His feet felt light as he walked to his room. There were two capsules of ibuprofen and a glass of water by his bedside.

He took them with a gulp, and lay back.

Two hands pulled up his sheets to his chest. Before Asher could say anything, they were gone in a puff of black smoke. The door slammed shut.

Well, there was the ghost. But where was the malice?


	16. Rose to My Feet

Asher was woken up by a splash of water on his face.

“Hey, what the f--- Crimson? I’m pretty sure I locked my door.”

“You did not. You also did not listen when I told you not to interact with the ghost. Grey says he saw you speaking to it.”

“I didn’t interact with the ghost, the ghost interacted with me! I fell, and I started… well, I fell, and the ghost brought me my cane and helped me get to my room.”

“Really?” Crimson looked genuinely surprised. “Usually he hides my whiskey, sabotages my blueprints, and deletes my files. And believe me, this was happening before we started genuinely arguing.”

Asher thought on that for a while.

“Come assist me with breakfast.”

Asher grabbed his cane and followed Crimson to the kitchen. 

“We will be making eggs benedict.”

“I…. I’m no good at eggs benedict.”

Crimson shook his head. “No one gets them right on their first try. I will teach you. I can be a bit… more firm than the others, but I will try to rein it in today. Just start by cooking the bacon.”

Asher washed his hands and placed some bacon on an iron skillet to cook. It already smelled so good, and he was so hungry…

“Don’t let the VOID’s hunger distract you. I’ll start the poaching water.”

Crimson set some water to boiling, and the two watched their respective items cook.

“Have you ever considered that the ghost is trying to help you?”

“Help me?! I---- how the hell does anything I just described to you sound like help?”

“Well… what if you’re drinking too much, and he doesn’t want you to end up like Verdant? What if he’s getting rid of your bad blueprints before you get hurt? I just don’t see him hurting anyone… he was so gentle with me,” Asher blushed a little.

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“You have a schoolboy crush on the apparition!” Crimson scoffed, laughing until his stomach hurt.

“I do not! I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t constantly assume that everyone is out to get you!” Asher protested.

Crimson stopped laughing.

“.... did I say something… wrong?”

“Assuming that everyone was out to get me is the only way to survive in the cutthroat world that I came from, and in the cutthroat world of weapons science. Changing my behaviors at this age would leave me defenseless.”

“I mean, no one ever said you had to be a pansy, Crim. Just…”

“You want me to be less anal.” 

Asher sputtered. “I----- y----yes. I want you to try.”

“Hmph,” Crimson grunted. “Your bacon is ready.”

“Oh!” Asher moved it off the skillet.

“Poaching water takes two thirds boiling water, and one third vinegar. When adding the vinegar, let the water boil again, then take it down to a simmer.”

Asher nodded. He felt like he was in class again. Should he be taking notes?

“Now, here’s how to not fuck up Hollandaise sauce. You need unsalted butter, about ten to fifteen tablespoons. Melt it.” Crimson passed Asher a stick of butter. Asher grabbed the same skillet and let the butter melt in a little bacon grease.

“That should be interesting… let’s continue. 3 egg yolks.”

Asher separated the yolks.

“A tablespoon of lemon juice. Salt.”

“That’s what I forgot,” Asher mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

He tossed the ingredients into the blender, then slowly blended in the melted butter.

“I will be poaching the eggs, but I want to show you how for the future.”

Crimson moved aside so that Asher could see him working. It was nice, how methodical Crimson was. Asher felt like he could never be led astray.

Why had he thought of that?

“Asher? Are you listening? We’re done.”

Crimson put a plate of eggs benedict in front of him. 

“My son would say, bone appetit. Thankfully, I am above such frivolities.”

Asher snorted. “But you still said it.”

“I--- god fucking dammit.”

They ate in relative silence, Crimson occasionally asking if he wanted tea, and how he liked it. He spent most of breakfast behind a newspaper, and Asher with his new sketchbook. It was a pleasant, comfortable quiet.

“Bundle up. It’s going to be a cold day.” He tossed Asher a dark red scarf. It smelled like strawberries and a bit of cigar smoke. Asher wrapped it around himself several times so that it wouldn’t drag. It was a nice scarf, too, Merino wool.

“You may only borrow that one. We will get you your own when we arrive.”

What? Why was Crim spending all this money on him? He didn’t know what to say.

“Let’s go.”

He wrapped himself in a wool coat and black scarf, with considerably less wear. The red one was clearly his favorite. He hooked his arm around Asher’s and walked them down the stairs. It was considerably easier to do with Crimson’s support.

Asher could feel that side of his face warm up a bit.

Crimson helped Asher into his Jaguar, then started the car.

He was a quiet driver, taking the scenic route as the sun lazily rose. Asher was passing places he’d never really seen: a sparkling river full of ducks, a blue mountain ridge, an abandoned asylum.

Eventually they arrived at the boutique, a well-dressed, older turtle monster greeting them.

“Crimson. I did not expect you back so soon, old friend.” The turtle smiled cheekily.

“I have recently----”

“Picked up a mate?”

“Met someone who requires your expert craftsmanship, preferably without any of your ludicrous ideas attached.”

Asher didn’t know why that stung, but it did.

“Well, you’ll want a regular cane for walking, a formal one for nights out, and maybe a spare… for other activities.”

“Jefferson, please stay on task.” Crimson scolded him. The turtle just chuckled.

What did he mean, other activities? Asher decided not to think on it too much.

Oh! A cane in particular caught Asher’s eye. It was a dark black wood, with a rose collar around the top. 

“A good choice. A little spiffy for the everyday, though…”

Asher nodded. “Even so, I really like it.”

“Get a feel for it. Walk on it and put that piece of shit you walked in with down,” Jefferson encouraged him.

It felt way better already, just from a couple of steps. Asher could feel how sturdy it was.

“Now, get yourself something you can use everyday.”

Asher headed for the metal canes, picking out one with a simple pink to blue gradient.

“That’s a good one too. Make sure you like how it feels, though.”

Asher walked on it. It was just as nice as the other.

“Alright. Will you be taking both?” Jefferson asked. Asher nodded sheepishly.

“I’ll be covering these,” Crimson stepped forward and paid with a black Amex.

“Heheheh, flexing your cash in front of the cute little sapling, hm?”

Crimson just sighed and rolled his eyes. 

They both headed back to the car. Crim put Asher’s fancy cane and his old one in the trunk, then passed him his informal cane.

“There is an indoor/outdoor botanical garden within a mile. We can test drive the cane there.”

Asher couldn’t help but smile. Crimson was trying so hard to be friendly, but his offers still came out as commands. It was endearing.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing,” Asher grinned a little more, before they both got into the car.

Crimson pulled the car into the botanical gardens. Asher had always wanted to go with Theo, but he’d always refused.

“Oh…. perhaps we should go elsewhere. I recognize that being here might not be ideal for you,” Crimson managed an apology.

“No… I’d like that. This is fine.”

Crimson hooked his arm around Asher’s, and they walked together.

Medicinal plants were first. “You know, in older times, people used atropa belladonna to magnify their pupils, as it was considered attractive.”

“Really? Humans are so weird,” Asher chortled.

Crimson explained what each medicinal plant could do, how it grew, how it blossomed in the spring. Asher was taken with everything he had to say. How could any one person be so knowledgeable? For a dryad, Asher only really planted orchids; they were his great love, and he had never really branched out to anything else.

He might never be able to raise an orchid again.

“Could we… skip the orchids?”

“Why? They are my favorites, besides roses.”

“Oh…. well, I used to raise orchids, and I…”

“Orchids are hardy plants. There is no reason not to try…. even if the doctor says you can’t grow anything, doctors can be wrong.” Crimson pressed on. “Even if they say there isn’t a cure, or that you’ll never be the same, that’s not a reason to give up.”

Asher watched him in awe. How could he be so hopeful? He’d been hurt by the void for even longer. Despite its misguidedness, his courage was admirable. 

A lot like human determination, actually.

“Let us at least peek at them. We won’t be long. Perhaps we can find one tough enough for you to grow it.”

Asher couldn’t help but blush, following Crimson into the outdoor portion of the garden, through the rose maze.

“Be sure not to cut yourself,” Crimson reminded Asher. Asher nodded. He reached to take Crimson’s arm again, but almost tripped. Crimson caught him with his own cane, before taking his hand.

“.... this is a lovely, secluded place,” Crimson sighed, looking… relaxed?

“Yeah, lots of people think this maze is boring, but I think that its beauty lies in the flowers, not in how complex the maze is.”

A bumblebee buzzed lazily by. Asher smiled.

“.... I think it would be good for you to grow plants, Crimson. You have a strong sense of dedication, and a good memory. That’s all it takes to make a plant grow. You don’t need magic.”

“Hm… I have considered growing miniature roses indoors. I just don’t know if I have time.”

Asher chuckled. “Just water them and feed them. It doesn’t take long. You can still work on the cure and do other stuff. I… I don’t think it’s good for your creativity to hyperfixate on anything for too long at a time. Eventually, your mind starts going in circles.”

Crimson nodded, considering Asher’s words. He kept walking more and more slowly, until coming to a stop.

“Do you need to rest?” Asher asked. Crimson nodded, too proud to say yes.

They sat at a quiet bench, away from the other traversers of the maze.

“... would you grow it with me?” 

Asher turned to answer, but was met with Crimson’s mouth instead.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	17. It All Comes Crashing Down

“Oh, gods! I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you were quite so close!” Asher stuttered, almost falling out of his bench. 

Crimson looked at a loss for words, before something in him slumped.

“Right… it was an accident. I apologize.”

“Are you okay? Sorry you had to kiss gross dead tree lips,” Asher tried to console him. It didn’t seem to be working.

“No, it’s not… let us head home. It is getting late, and Mauve’s children are visiting tonight. Someone needs to keep an eye on that kleptomaniac before he steals something actually important, like their wallets.”   
“I don’t think Mauve would do that,” Asher shook his head. Crimson just shrugged.

“It is important to prepare for all possibilities, even if they never come to pass.”

“You’re starting to sound like Grey, Mr. Conspiracy Theorist,” Asher teased him. Crimson gave him a deadpan look. “Never say that about me again, and I might let you live.”

“Oh, like that’ll scare me. I’m over half-dead to begin with.”

A look of rage flashed across Crimson’s face, instantly returning to his neutral gaze. “That stupid bastard took a picture of you with his “phantograph”, didn’t he? I’ll have his head for that.”

“Why? It’s the truth,” Asher shrugged. “I’m literally dead inside. Worth knowing, I'd say."

"It's… it's just another thing that you didn't need to know about. You finding that out does you no good, and you would have been better off not knowing at all. Sometimes… I fear we look too much into things we are not meant to look into. That is how we ended up in this mess to begin with," Crimson kicked a can in the parking lot like a teenager. Asher couldn't help but smile.

"You're worried about me, aren't you?"

"I would worry about anyone who was suddenly told that they are a member of the living dead."

"Guess I shouldn't tell the others that they're skeletons yet," Asher stage whispered.

"You know what I mean, you juvenile little seedling."

"Excuse me, I am at the very least a sprout."

Crimson waved a hand. "I do not understand how you remain so optimistic in your circumstances. You have sustained far worse injuries than any of us, yet you still find the time to make sure we are doing well. It is bewildering to me."

Asher sighed, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

"I guess I'm just like the giving tree…"

"The… do you mean that wretched book that lunatics read to their children? It made both of my sons cry. I burned it later in my lab."

The thought of Crimson taking the time to destroy a children's book amused Asher. He couldn't help but giggle. Crimson seemed a little less tense.

"You have not run into Morus, or Mutt, as he calls himself, have you?"

Asher nodded. "He dropped by once."

"Beware of that one. He's just as cunning and detached as his father."

Asher shook his head. "I wouldn't call Mauve detached. A detached person doesn't steal diaries."

"He probably thought it entertaining to give you a small victory. I assure you, you do not know Mauve like I do." He opened the door for Asher and helped him get into the car, before they drove home.

Something didn’t line up. Crimson seemed… sad, an emotion that Asher had never seen him display. That sadness quickly turned to anger, though, as he braked hard, causing an unknown skeleton to lurch forward in the back seat. Asher screamed.

“Get out of my car, Morus.”

“What?” Mutt shrugged, starting to light a cigarette. “Just needed a ride to dinner is all.”

“You can teleport. Get out of my car.”

“Why, am I interrupting the lovebirds?”

“You are interrupting nothing of the sort. Get out.”

“It’s okay, Crim, he can ride home. He just scared me,” Asher tried to calm Crimson down, but Crimson was already shaking with rage.

“I wouldn’t happen to be in the way, would I? Of you finally receiving some desperately needed affection that you don’t deserve, Crimson?” Morus smirked.

**“Out.”**

“I wonder how your little boyfriend would feel if he found out that---” 

The door flew open, the gust of the interstate hitting Asher in the face, as Crimson’s car squealed to a stop on the side of the road. Hands manifested and seized Morus, hurling him a good twenty feet.

**“O U T!”**

The car lurched forward again and Crimson sped off, Asher gripping his seat for dear life. With the speed at which Crimson was going, he didn’t trust his seatbelt to hold him.

“Crim, the police…”

No answer. He was seeing red to the point of not registering Asher’s voice.

“Crim! There’s a cop following us!”

Nothing.

“Crim,  **pull over!”**

**C R A S H**

Asher felt strong arms lifting him out of the totaled vehicle. His head was spinning, and he made weak hands for the other man with him. Crimson was just within reach, yet so far…

He recognized the faint scent of roses, even though his vision was out of focus.

“Edge?....”

“DON’T TALK. YOU’LL HURT YOUR THROAT. JUST STAY WITH ME… JUST STAY AWAKE.”

“So tired…” Asher mumbled.

“JUST STAY WITH ME. THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO DO.”

He felt the soft cushion of a gurney underneath him.

“Crimson…”

Though out of focus, he could see the other man in the ambulance, laid out just like him. He thought of taking his hand, and before he could stop, he did.

“..... WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, FATHER.”

No response. Crimson still seemed furious.

“FATHER. RESPOND. IT IS MY DUTY TO HEAR YOUR ANSWER TO THIS MESS. IT’S A MIRACLE YOU DIDN’T KILL ANYONE.”

“..... Morus got in the car.”

“AND DID HE SLAM ON THE GAS? DID HE SEND YOU FLYING INTO A TREE AT 80 MILES AN HOUR?”

“.... No.”

“THEN THIS HAS LITTLE TO DO WITH HIM, AND A LOT TO DO WITH YOU. I WILL SEE IF I CAN TRY TO GET YOU OUT OF ANY RECKLESS DRIVING CHARGES, BUT NO PROMISES.”

Crimson nodded.

**“AND IF YOU EVER PUT ASHER IN THAT KIND OF DANGER AGAIN, I WILL MOVE YOU BACK IN WITH CINN AND I.”**

Crimson nodded again.

Asher was loaded into a hospital room, Crimson on the other side of it. He wanted to walk, to go to him, but everything was so sore and hurt so much….

“You do not have to move,” The other man stated. “I will be just fine talking to you from here.”

Asher tried to nod his head, but his neck hurt too much.

“.... Why were his words so upsetting to you?”

“.... I’m not ready to discuss that,” Crimson replied.

“Well, you holding it in almost got us both killed, Crim, so you might as well say it now.”

Crimson went quiet for a while.

“Crim?”

Was that… sobbing?

“It’s my fault.”

“I mean, technically the accident is, but why are you crying?”

“No! I don’t mean…. I mean, your accident. Is my fault, and mine alone.”

Asher felt his body stiffen.

“I was looking for a cure that night, and testing alternative settings on the collider, to see if I could find a setting that would suck the VOID out of someone and take it away. I forgot to change things back to the default settings before you cleaned it.”

Asher didn’t know what to say to that. Had he known the entire time?

He’d been carrying that burden, alone, the entire time… His sobbing got a little louder.

“Crim…”

“You can hate me. You should. I should never have tried to kiss you. Not when I have something like that on my hands.”

“Wait, you tried to kiss me? That wasn’t an accident?”

“It wasn’t. I might as well confess to all my sins, while I’m here.”

Vines branched from Asher, and he slowly, carefully, pulled the two beds together with his magic.

He gently petted Crimson’s back, which was turned towards him.

“I d-don’t understand… why are you comforting me? I have ruined your life…”

“No…. bad things just happen sometimes, Crim. I don’t blame you for what’s occurred. I just don’t want you to bear it all by yourself anymore.”

“I deserve to bear it alone. It is nothing anyone can absolve me of.”

Asher chuckled. “Not even me?”

The older man just sighed, trying not to sniffle.

“Let’s just try to go to sleep, okay? Tomorrow, we can spend time in our actual house, and maybe I can make us tea. But for now, we need to rest, alright?”

“..... please don’t let go.” A hand materialized, taking Asher’s. “I won’t ask it of you again.”

“Ask it of me any time. Goodnight, Crimson.”

“Goodnight, Asher.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr (16+)](https://rizzizzsins.tumblr.com/)  
> Connect with me on [Pillowfort (18+ only)](https://www.pillowfort.social/rizzizzsins)  
> Like my work? Drop me a kudos or some pocket change on my [Square Cash](https://cash.app/%24rizzizzsins)  
> Donate to my top surgery fund [here](https://www.gofundme.com/1pvlclx4c0)


End file.
